% 

\ 

) V 


Across  America 


THE  GREAT  WEST 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST. 


BY 

JAMES  F.  RUSLING, 

Late  Brevet  Brigadier-General,  U.  S,  V. 


NEW  YORK: 

Sheldon  & Company. 

1874. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by 
JAMES  F.  RUSLING, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PREFACE. 


TN  the  summer  of  1866,  having  lately  concluded  a tour 
of  inspection  through  the  West  and  South,  and 
awaiting  orders  in  Washington,  it  was  my  fortune  one 
morning  to  receive  the  following: 

“ Quartermaster-General’s  Office,  ) 
“Washington,  D.  C.,  July  10,  1866.  J 

“ General  : — You  will  immediately  enter  upon  a 
tour  of  inspection  of  the  affairs  of  the  Quartermaster’s 
Department,  as  administered  at  Fort  Leavenworth, 
Kansas,  and  thence  west  via  Denver  City  and  Salt  Lake 
City  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  inspecting  all  intermediate 
Posts  while  en  route.  At  Denver  City  you  will  confer 
with  Brevet  Col.  Howard,  A.  Q.  M.,  as  to  the  practica- 
bility of  breaking  up  that  depot,  and  removing  the 
stores  to  other  points  wThere  needed.  Thence  to  Salt 
Lake  City,  where  a rigid  inspection  is  needed.  Thence 
to  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

“ Upon  reaching  the  Pacific  Coast,  you  will  confer 
with  the  Commanding  General  and  Chief  Quartermaster 
of  the  Military  Division  of  the  Pacific,  and  having  pro- 
cured necessary  information  relative  to  the  locality, 
importance,  etc.  of  the  various  Posts,  you  will  proceed 
upon  a careful  inspection  throughout  California,  Oregon, 


iv 


PREFACE. 


Nevada,  and  Washington  and  Arizona  Territories. 
Upon  completing  this  duty,  you  will  return  to  this  city, 
via  the  Isthmus,  and  report  in  person  to  the  Quarter- 
master-General. 

“ It  will  be  necessary  to  keep  this  Office  fully  in- 
formed, in  advance,  as  to  your  probable  whereabouts,  so 
that  instructions  may  be  telegraphed  to  you  at  the 
stations  where  you  are  on  duty  when  necessary. 

“ You  are  authorized  to  take  a clerk  with  you. 

* * * * * * 

“ Yery  respectfully, 

“ Your  ob’t.  serv’t., 

“ M.  C.  MEIGS, 

“ Quartermaster- General,  ) 

“ Brevet  Maj.-Gen .,  U.  S.  A."  \ 

“ Brevet  Brig. -Gen.  James  F.  Rusting , ) 

“ Inspector  Q.  M.  Dep't.”  ) 

These,  my  orders,  were  subsequently  endorsed  as 
follows : 

u Headquarters  of  the  Army,  ) 
“Washington,  D.  C.,  July  18,  1866.  j 

“ Commanding  officers  will,  on  the  requisition  of 
Gen.  Rusling,  furnish  the  necessary  escorts  to  enable 
him  to  make  the  within  directed  inspections. 

“ By  command  of  Lieut.-Gen.  Grant, 

“ GEO.  K.  LEET, 

“ Ass't.  Adft.-Gen 

The  general  object  of  this  tour,  perhaps  I should 
explain,  in  a word,  was  to  examine  into  the  condition  of 
our  various  depots  and  posts  West,  and  consider  their 


PREFACE. 


V 


bases  and  routes  of  supply,  with  a view  to  reducing  if 
possible  the  enormous  expenditures,  that  then  every- 
where prevailed  there.  How  well  or  ill  this  was  accom- 
plished, it  is  not  for  me  to  say,  nor  is  this  volume  the 
place— my  He  ports  at  the  time  speaking  for  themselves.* 
The  route  thus  roughly  indicated  was  long,  and  in 
parts  reputed  dangerous ; but  for  years  I had  cherished 
a desire  to  see  something  of  that  vast  region  in  the  sun- 
set, and  here  at  length  was  the  golden  opportunity.  I 
need  scarcely  say,  therefore,  that  I obeyed  my  orders 
with  alacrity,  and  in  the  execution  of  them  was  absent 
in  all  about  a twelvemonth.  .During  that  period,  cross- 
ing the  continent  to  San  Francisco,  among  the  Moun- 
tains, along  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  thence  home  by  the 
Isthmus,  I travelled  in  all  over  15,000  miles,  as  per 
accompanying  Map  ; of  which  about  2,000  were  by  rail- 
road, 2,000  by  stage-coach,  3,000  by  ambulance  or  on 
horseback,  and  the  remainder  by  steamer.  This  book, 
now,  is  the  rough  record  of  it  all,  written  at  odd 
hours  since,  as  occasion  offered.  Much  of  this  jour- 
ney, of  course,  was  over  the  old  travelled  routes,  so  well 
described  already  by  Bowles,  Richardson,  Hordhoff,  and 
other's.  But  several  hundred  miles  of  it,  along  and 
among  the  Rocky  Mountains,  a thousand  or  so  through 
Utah  and  Idaho,  and  perhaps  two  thousand  or  more 
through  Southern  California  and  Arizona,  were  through 
regions  that  most  overland  travellers  never  see ; and  here, 

* Mostly  published  by  Congress  in  1867-8,  and  among  the  Pub. 
Docs,  for  those  years. 


VI 


PREFACE, 


at  least,  I trust  something  was  gleaned  of  interest  and 
profit  to  the  general  reader.  Moreover,  my  official 
orders  gave  me  access  to  points  not  always  to  be  reached, 
and  to  sources  of  information  not  usually  open ; so  that 
it  was  my  duty,  as  well  as  pleasure,  to  see  and  hear  as 
much  of  the  Great  West  and  the  Pacific  Coast  every- 
where, as  seemed  practicable  in  such  a period. 

Of  course,  I kept  a rough  diary  and  journal  (apart 
from  my  official  Reports),  and  retiring  from  the  army  in 
1867,  perhaps  these  should  have  been  written  out  for 
publication  long  ago,  if  at  all.  But  it  proved  no  easy 
task  to  settle  down  again  into  the  harness  of  civil  life, 
after  being  six  years  in  the  army,  as  all  “ old  soldiers”  at 
least  well  know.  I plead  only  this  excuse  for  my  delay — 
the  absorption  of  a busy  life  and  health  not  firm  ; and 
trust  these  notes  on  Western  life  and  scenery,  if  lacking 
somewhat  in  immediate  freshness,  will  yet  be  considered 
not  altogether  stale.  The  completion  of  the  Pacific  Rail 
road,  it  will  be  noted,  made  this  long  tour  of  mine,  by 
stage-coach  and  ambulance,  through  the  Great  West  and 
along  the  Pacific  Coast,  about  the  last,  if  not  the  last,  of 
its  kind  possible ; and,  therefore,  under  all  the  circum- 
stances, it  has  seemed  not  unfitting,  even  at  this  late 
date,  to  give  these  pages  to  the  world. 

Writing  only  for  the  general  public,  it  will  be 
noticed,  I have  tried  everywhere  to  avoid  all  military 
and  official  details,  as  far  as  practicable,  and  to  confine 
myself  mainly  to  what  would  seem  of  interest,  if  not 
value,  to  everybody.  So,  too,  I have  aimed  to  bridge 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


the  interval  from  1866-7  to  1874  by  such  additional 
facts  as  appeared  necessary ; but  without,  however, 
modifying  inv  own  observations  and  experiences  materi- 
ally. If  some  persons,  and  some  localities,  are  spoken 
of  more  flatteringly  (or  less)  than  usual,  it  is  at  least 
with  truthfulness  and  candor,  as  things  seemed  to  me. 
No  doubt  errors  of  fact  have  been  committed,  but 
these  were  not  intended ; and  some  of  these,  of  course, 
were  simply  unavoidable  in  a book  like  this.  So,  too, 
as  to  style,  no  pretension  whatever  is  made  ; but  I claim 
merely  an  honest  endeavor  to  convey  some  useful,  if  not 
interesting  information  currente  calamo , in  the  readiest 
way  possible,  and  a generous  public  will  forgive  much 
accordingly. 

In  brief,  if  what  is  here  roughly  said  will  lead  any 
American  to  a better  love  of  his  country,  or  to  a truer 
pride  in  it,  or  any  foreigner  to  a kindlier  appreciation  of 
the  Republic,  verily  I have  my  reward. 

Trenton , N.  J.,  March  15,  1874. 


J.  F.  R. 


/ 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

New  York  to  Fort  Riley,  Kansas. 

Across  America. — Off  July  24,  1866. — West  by  Erie  Railroad. — The 
Great  West. — Northern  New  Jersey. — Western  New  York. — • 
Ohio.  — Miami  Valley.  — Indiana  and  Illinois.  — Buckeye  vs. 
Hoosier  and  Sucker. — Cincinnati  and  St.  Louis  vs.  Chicago. — St. 
Louis  redivivus. — Missouri. — Her  Germans  and  Vineyards. — The 
Missouri  River. — Leavenworth. — Lawrence  and  Topeka. — Valley 
of  the  Kansas. — Junction  City. — Kansas  Generally. — Her  fine 
Building-stone. — Her  Scenery. — Her  Enterprise  and  Thrift.— 
“ Fall  Leaf”  and  the  Delawares. — A Big  Chief  and  his  Exploits. 
— The  Pottawatomies.  — Returning  from  a Buffalo  Hunt. — 
The  Indian  in  Kansas 21-32 


CHAPTER  II. 

From  the  Kansas  to  the  Platte. 

Gompagnons  du  Voyage.  — Afloat  on  the  Plains.  — Travelling  by 
Ambulance. — Camping-out. — Outfit  and  Escort. — The  “ divides/' 
— The  Platte  itself. — The  Grasshoppers. — Prairie-chickens  and 
other  Game. — Prairie  Dogs. — A Happy  Family. — The  Little 
Blue. — The  Pawnees  and  Indian  rumors  generally. — Virginia 
Station  and  Big  Sandy. — The  Settlers  en  route . —A  Pennsylvania 
Dutchman  Westernized.  — Life  on  Fancy  Creek.  — Rev.  Mr. 
Silvers  of  Wild  Cat  Creek. — A Pioneer  Missionary.  . 33-39 


X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Tip  the  Platte  to  Denver. 

The  Union  Pacific  Railroad. — The  Overland  Stage  Company. — Mr. 
Ben  Holladay. — An  Enterprising  Missourian. — Concord  Coaches 
and  Teams. — Stage  Stations. — Meals  en  route. — The  Drivers 
generally. — Fellow-passengers. — Col.  B.,  an  ex-Lieut.-Governor 
turned  Sutler. — A Swiss  Artist. — A Doctor  of  Divinity. — A New 
York  Banker  and  his  Patriotic  Wife. — The  Weather. — Life  on 
a Stage-Coach,  outside  Day  and  Night. — The  Scenery  generally. 
— Magnificent  Sunsets. — A particularly  fine  one.  . 40-46 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Tip  the  Platte  to  Denver  (concluded). 

The  Platte  Valley  in  general. — Its  Features  and  Resources. — The 
Platte  River  itself. — The  Canon  Cedars. — Want  of  Timber. — 
Costly  Fuel,  Grain,  etc.  at  Fort  Sedgwick. — Scenery  or  the 
Plains  generally. — Buffalo  and  their  Range. — A Ride  after 
Antelope. — Lost  on  the  Plains. — Buffalo  Trails. — The  Settlers 
generally. — Kearney  City,  Julesburg,  etc.  — The  Ranches. — 
Fort  Wicked.  — Wagon-trains.  — Prairie  Schooners.  — Bull- 
drivers. — Sioux  Indians. — “ Big  Injun”  stories  generally.  47-57 

CHAPTER  V. 

Denver  and  the  Mines. 

Denver  itself. — A Mountain  City. — Her  Growth  and  Enterprise. — 
Judge  Gale  and  her  Gamblers. — Bishop  Randall. — Her  want  of 
Trees  and  Shrubbery. — Metropolis  of  Colorado. — Gov.  Gum- 
ming.— Hints  of  Judge  Lynch. — Reception  of  Gen.  Sherman  and 
Brother. — Golden  City. — The  Snowy  Range. — Central  City. — Its 
Population  and  Pluck.  — Placer  Mining.  — Quartz  Lodes. — 
Gregory  Mine. — A Good  Superintendent  vs.  a Poor  One. — Col- 
orado Ores  in  general. — A new  “ process”  wanted. — Watered 
Stock  Companies. — “ Freezing  Out.” — Mining  Statistics. — The 
Coming  Mineralogist. — Idaho  City. — The  Saratoga  of  Colorado. 
— Georgetown  and  Mill  City. — Clear  Creek  and  ride  back  to 
Denver. — Miners  Slang. — “ You  Bet.”  ....  58-74 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Among  the  Mountains. 

First  View  of  Rocky  Mountains. — Above  and  Across  them  to  Fort 
Garland. — Rumors  of  Indians. — A Stormy  Divide. — “Dirty 
Woman’s  Ranch.” — Castle  Rock. — Buttes. — Monument  Creek. — 
Garden  of  the  Gods. — Pike’s  Peak. — Soda  Springs. — Colorado 
City. — Canon  City. — Fontaine  qui  Bouilli. — Irrigation. — Pueblo. 
— The  Arkansas,  Greenhorn,  and  Huerfano,  and  their  Valleys. 
— Mexican  Laborers. — Hincklin’s  Ranch. — Sangre  del  Christo 
Pass. — Views  from  Summit. — Descent  into  San  Luis  Park. — 
Sangre  del  Christo  Creek. — A Mule-back  Ride. — Trout  Fishing. 
— Snow-squalls  and  a Cold  “ Camp.” — Mexicans  and  Bronchos. 
— Culebra. — A Mexican  Bailie. — Don  Jesus. — A Dancing  Peo- 
ple  75-93 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Among  the  Mountains  (continued). 

The  Parks  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. — San  Luis  Park  particularly. — 
The  Backbone  of  the  Continent. — The  Rio  Grande  and  its  Bot- 
toms.— Fine  Trout-streams. — Snow  Squalls. — Sierra  Blanca. — 
Russell’s  Ranch. — Good  Specimen  of  a Colorado  Pioneer. — 
Homan’s  Park. — Kerber’s  Ranch. — A Dairy  in  the  Heart  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains. — Hospitable  Germans. — Camping-out  on  the 
Summit. — Poncho  Pass  and  Creek. — Absence  of  Game. — A Bad 
Road. — The  Arkansas  again. — South  Park. — Leutze’s  Painting  in 
the  Capitol. — Mexican  vs.  Yankee. — Salt  Works. — Duck  Shoot- 
ing.— Fair  Play. — South  Platte. — Placer  Mining. — Buckskin 
Joe. — Judge  Costello  and  his  Hotel. — The  Newspapers  again. — 
Elections  of  1866. — Rocky  Mountain  Eagle. — Down  the  South 
Platte. — A Good  Road. — Bradford’s  Hill. — The  Plains  again. — 
The  Mule  Kate. — A Gold  and  Silver  Mining  Company. — A 
Little  Fun! 95-113 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Indians — Gen.  Sherman — Kit  Carson , etc. 


Sherman  and  Utes  in  Council  at  Fort  Garland. — Sherman  and  the 
Arrapahoes. — Gov.  Cumming  and  Ute  Treaty. — Indian  Ponies. — 


Xll 


CONTENTS. 


Ute  Costumes. — Ute  Village. — Boy  Braves. — Indian  Dogs. — 
Indian  Profanity. — Lost  at  Night  among  them. — Something  of 
an  Adventure. — A Scary  Situation. — Wellington. — The  Treaty 
itself. — Ooray. — Ancantasli. — Shauno. — Speech  of  Gov.  Gum- 
ming.— Kit  Carson  as  Interpreter. — Ooray’s  Cute  Replies. — 
Indian  Presents. — “ Swopping.” — Jack  Cox. — Ute  Dance  by 
Moonlight  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande. — Ute  Squaws. — 
The  Average  Indian. — Kit  Carson. — His  Personal  Appearance 
and  Character. — His  Life  and  Adventures. — Kit  on  Fremont. — 
Sherman  on  Kit  Carson. — Kit  on  the  Indian  Question. — The 
Chivington  Massacre,  etc. — Sherman’s  Opinion  of  New  Mexico,  etc. 
— Sumner’s  Ditto. — Sherman  as  a Talker  and  Smoker.  114-143 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Denver  to  Salt  Lake. 

Rocky  Mountains  from  Denver. — Off  for  the  Pacific. — Mountain 
Mud- wagons.  — Laporte. — Gen.  Dodge.  — The  Foot-hills. — Vir- 
ginia Dale. — Miners  going  East  to  Winter. — Willow  Spring. — 
An  Indian  Scare. — Stampedes. — Old  Fort  Halleck. — Laramie 
Plains. — North  Platte  and  Valley. — Bridger’s  Pass. — Across  the 
Summit. — Sulphur  Springs. — Bitter  Creek  Country. — Alkali 
Region. — A Delirium  Tremens  Passenger. — A Square  Meal  at 
Laclede. — A Driver’s  Opinion  of  Bitter  Creek. — Green  River. — 
Church  Butte. — Rocky  Mountain  Stories. — Stage-coaching  Phi- 
losophically Considered. — Something  about  Smoking. — A Mus- 
tang Team  and  a Runaway. — Fort  Bridger  and  Judge  Carter. — 
Sage-hens. — Marmion  and  the  Bible  in  a Cabin. — Echo  Canon. 
— Mormon  Campaign,  1857-8. — Weber  Valley. — Mormons. — 
Parley’s  Canon. — Salt  Lake  City.— A Hearty  Sleep.  . 143-163 


CHAPTER  X. 

At  Salt  Lake  City. 

Salt  Lake  House. — Beauty  of  the  City. — Rasselas’  Happy  Valley. — 
A Sunday  at  the  Tabernacle. — A Mormon  Missionary. — Their 
Sacrament. — George  Q.  Cannon  and  his  Address. — Exercises 
generally.  — Mountain  Fever.  — Hot  Sulphur  Springs.  — City- 
wall. — Mormon  Militia  Muster.— The  Review. — Their  Lieuten 


CONTENTS. 


.Xlll 


ant-General  Commanding  and  Brigadier-Generals. — A Dubious 
if  not  Menacing  Military  Body.  — Interview  with  Brigham 
Young. — A Talk  about  Southern  Utah. — He  “ Disremembers’ 
rather  Suspiciously. — His  Views  on  Religion,  Polygamy,  Utah, 
etc.  — His  Personal  Appearance  and  Character.  — Mormon 
Theatre. — Brigham  and  his  Family  Present. — General  Audi- 
ence.— Polygamy  and  its  Effects 164-182 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Mormon  Outrages — Polygamy , etc. 

Previous  Impressions. — A Recent  Outrage. — Dr.  Robinson’s  Case. — 
Proceedings  in  the  U.  S.  District  Court. — An  Atrocious  Mur- 
der.— The  Church  Implicated. — A Vigilance  Committee  Pro- 
posed.— Shrewdness  of  Brigham  Young. — His  Telegram  to 
Sherman. — It  Paid  the  Saints. — The  Logical  Fruit  of  Mormon- 
ism. — Bad  Teachings  of  Leaders. — Gentiles  vs.  Mormons. — 
Remarkable  Statements  of  a U.  S.  Judge. — He  Believes  in 
Thugs  and  Danites. — His  Views  of  Dr.  Robinson’s  Case. — 
Mormon  Juries. — Brassfield’s  Case. — The  Mountain  Meadow 
Massacre. — Brigham  Young  Responsible. — Andrew  Johnson  on 
Utah.  — Growth  of  Polygamy.  — Its  Practical  Workings.  — A 
Second  Wife  on  the  Rampage. — Polygamous  Children. — No 
Free  Schools. — Foulness  of  Polygamy. — The  Jury  Trouble 

again. — Judge  ’s  Remedy. — U.  S.  Troops  essential  there. — 

Pacific  Railroad  unlikely  to  solve  the  Problem  soon. — Brigham 
Young’s  Successor. — His  Cowardice  Personally. — A Brave  Offi- 
cial. — The  High  Council  of  the  Church  overrules  Federal 
Decisions,  etc 183-198 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Mormonism  in  General. 

Mormon  Industry  and  Thrift. — Their  System  of  Irrigation. — Small 
Farms. — Good  Homes. — No  Drunkenness  or  Gambling. — Salt 
Lake  City  again. — Mormonism  itself. — A Colonization  Scheme, 
rather  than  Religion. — The  Bishops  Sharp  Business  Men. — The 
Tendency  of  Mormon  Teachings. — Mormon  Disloyalty. — Mormon 
Women. — Polygamy  an  Insult  to  Civilization. — A Crime  against 
Humanity. — It  should  be  Stamped  Out,  sans  Ceremony,  and 
Instanter.  199-205 


xiv* 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Salt  Lake  to  JBoisb  City. 

Ben  Holliday  again. — His  Great  Stage  Lines. — Wells,  Fargo  & Co. — 
Profits  and  Losses. — His  Appearance  and  Character. — Off  for 
the  Columbia. — Great  Salt  Lake. — Brigham  Young’s  Islands  and 
Canons. — Hot  Springs. — Ogden  City. — Bishop  West. — Joseph 
Young. — Brigham  City. — A Ute  Brave. — Ute  Squaws. — Brigham 
Young’s  Indian  Policy. — Bear  River. — The  Country  generally. 
— Bad  Water. — Malade  Station. — Indians  and  Wolves. — Snake 
River. — Subterranean  Stream  and  Cascade. — Great  American 
Falls. — Barren  Country. — Valley  of  the  Boise. — The  Ride  gen- 
erally.— Square  Meals. — Mr.  Superintendent  Halsey. — A Live 
Man 206-222 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Boisb  City  to  the  Columbia . 

Idaho. — Bo  s'  City. — Miners. — Saloons. — Specie  and  “ Dust”  vs. 
Greenbacks. — John  Chinaman. — An  Idaho  Dogberry  vs.  Judge 
Lynch. — Idaho  generally. — Fort  Boise. — A Lucky  Paymaster. — 
“ Swinging  Round  the  Circle.” — Off  for  the  Columbia. — Burnt 
River  and  Powder  River  and  their  Valleys. — Snake  River  again. 
— Farewell  Bend. — Steamboating  on  the  Snake. — Bituminous 
Coal. — Oregon. — Baker  City. — Grand  Ronde  Valley. — Le  Grande. 
— Crossing  the  Blue  Mountains. — Mules  vs.  Horses. — Le  Grande 
River. — Scenery. — A Corkscrew  Road. — “ Jordan  a Hard  Road 
to  Travel.” — Freight  Trains  and  Teamsters. — Some  “ Horse” 
Philosophy.  — Bull-wliackers  as  a Class. — Ox-teams. — A Hard 
Pull. — Break-downs.  — “ Meacliam’s.”  — A Live  Oregonian. — 
Pikes  and  Confederates. — Caught  in  a Snow  Storm. — A Fine 
View.  — “Crawfords.” — “Well’s  Springs.” — A Sick  Horse. — 
Umatilla  River. — Indian  Reservation. — Fine  Water-power — 
John  Wilful. — A Specimen  Idahoan. — Good-bye  to  Stage-coach- 
ing, etc 223-249 


CHAPTER  XV. 

JDoion  the  Columbia. 


Umatilla. — Indians. — A Mr.  Micawber. — Steamboats. — Capt.  Stump. 
— Oregon  Steam  Navigation  Company.- -The  Columbia  and  its 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


Tributaries. — Indians.  — “ Calico  ” Horses.  — Celilo.  — Railroad 
Portages. — Shooting  the  Rapids  in  a Steamboat. — The  Dalles. — 
Upper  Cascades.  — Lower  Cascades.  — Wild  and  Picturesque 
River  Scenery. — Cascade  Mountains. — Canon  of  the  Columbia. 
— Castle  Rock. — Mount  Hood. — Hood  from  the  Columbia. — 
Quick  Changes  of  Climate. — Coast  Region  and  Rains. — Fellow- 
passengers.  250-260 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Fort  Vancouver  to  San  Francisco . 

Vancouver. — Cen.  Steele. — About  Sherman.  — The  Truth  as  to 
Grant’s  Vicksburg  Campaign.  — A True  Army  Bachelor.  — 
Isothermal  Lines. — Superb  Hood  again. — Portland. — Her  Enter- 
prise and  Importance. — Yankee  Doodle  vs.  John  Bull. — Puget 
Sound. — Oregonians  generally. — John  Chinaman. — His  Good 
Qualities. — Off  for  San  Francisco  by  Steamer. — Mountain  Views 
from  Mouth  of  Willamette. — Jefferson,  Hood,  Adams,  and  St. 
Helen’s. — Astoria. — Rain  and  Fog. — Bar  of  the  Columbia. — Fort 
Stevens  and  Cape  Disappointment. — Crossing  the  Bar. — The 
Oriflamme  and  Capt.  Conner. — Sea  Sickness. — Bad  Weather. 
— A Rough  Voyage.  — Off  ’Frisco.  — All  hail,  the  Golden 
Gate  ! 261-275 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

San  Francisco. 

o 

Her  Position  Geographically. — Her  Great  Bay. — Location  of  City 
faulty. — Her  Sand-hills. — Her  Sea-wall. — Her  Great  Commerce. 
— Some  Statistics. — The  View  from  Telegraph  Hill. — Her  Prog- 
ress and  Energy. — Bad  Climate. — Her  Rainy  Winters. — Her 
Earthquakes. — Her  Raw  Summers. — Montgomery  Street. — Her 
Public  Buildings. — Private  Residences. — Flower  Gardens. — 
Wind-mills. — The  Representative  Californian. — Montgomery 
Street  Dames.  — Her  Sabbaths.  — Jewish  Synagogue.  — Starr 
King’s  Church. — Other  Churches. — Society  generally.  . 276-289 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

San  Francisco  (continued). 

Greenbacks  vs.  Gold  and  Silver. — General  Prices. — Loyalty  of  the 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


Coast. — Anxious  for  Alaska. — Christmas  and  New  Year’s. — 
Lucky  Army  Officers. — Adventure  on  the  Bay. — Oakland. — Cliff 
House  and  Sea  Lions. — “ Ben  Butler  ” and  “ Gen.  Grant.” — Fine 
Ride. — Ups  and  Downs  of  California  Life. — Eccentric  Oscar  H. 
— Things  Improving 290-299 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

San  Francisco  (concluded). 

The  Heathen  Chinee. — Their  Numbers,  Costumes,  Habits,  etc. — 
Eager  to  Learn  Melican  Ways. — Pigeon  English. — Grand  Ban- 
quet.— Their  Graceful  Manners. — Their  Great  Companies. — 
Their  Talent  for  Organization  and  Business. — They  run  the 
Mission  Mills  and  build  the  Pacific  Railroad. — An  Evening  in 
the  Chinese  Quarter. — Their  Theatre  and  Orchestra. — A Lottery 
Office. — The  Barbary  Coast. — An  Augean  Stable. — Their  Gam- 
bling Houses. — Chinese  New  Year. — Their  Hospitality  and 
Politeness.  — Good  Bankrupt  Law.  — Their  Josh-Houses  and 
Religion. — The  Chinese  Problem  generally. — Good  Chance  for 
Missionary  Work. — Fiat  Justitia.  ....  300-321 

CHAPTER  XX. 

San  Francisco  to  Los  Angelos. 

Off  for  Los  Angelos. — A Race  with  the  Golden  Age. — A Pacific  Sea. 
— Coast  Scenes.  — Santa  Barbara.  — Spanish  Missions.  — San 
Pedro. — San  Diego. — Her  Harbor.— John  Phoenix. — A Deserted 
Village. — The  County  Jail. — Climate. — Business. — Whale-fish- 
ing.— San  Pedro  again. — Wilmington. — Gen.  Banning. — A Rep- 
resentative Californian. — The  Village  Barber. — The  Los  Angelos 
Plains. — Rancheros. — Wild  Geese,  etc. — Acequias. — Los  Angelos 
and  its  Suburbs.  — Population.  — Climate.  — Sundays.  — Vine- 
yards.— “ Don  Benito  ” Wilson. — His  Noble  Ranch. — His  Orange 
Groves,  Vineyards,  Wine-cellars,  etc. — Cheap  Lands.  . 322-338 

CHAPTER  XXI 

Wilmington  to  Fort  Yuma. 

Outfit. — Getting  Off. — Anaheim. — German  Enterprise. — Santa  Anna 
River. — Laguna  Grande. — A Spanish  Hacienda. — Buena  Vista. — 
Villacito. — Colorado  Desert. — Carissa  Creek. — Desolate  Land- 


CONTENTS. 


XVII 


scapes. — Sand  Storms. — Mirage. — The  Laguna. — Alamo. — Pilot 
Knob.  — The  Country  generally.  — Stage  Stations.  — Carissa 
Creek  again. — A Stray  Texan. — Bill  of  Fare. — Indians. — A 
Border  Outrage. — Gambling  Charley. — Mexican  Exiles.— Max- 
imilian.— “Inside”  and  “Outside.”  ....  339-354 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Fort  Yuma  to  Tucson. 

Fort  Yuma  itself. — Arizona  City. — Rio  Colorado. — Difficult  Navi- 
gation.— High  River  Freights. — A Yuma  Sand  Storm. — The 
Thermometer  at  Yuma. — Yuma  Indians. — Old  Pasquol. — Good 
Missionary  Ground.  — Gov.  McCormick,  etc.  — “ Outfit.”  — Off 
for  Tucson. — Gila  City. — The  Gila  itself. — General  Scenery. — 
Gila  Bottoms.  — Bunch-grass  and  Mesquite  Trees. — Arizona 
Settlers. — Gila  Bend. — Maricopa  Desert. — A Dangerous  Canon. 
— Painted  Rocks. — The  Country  generally. — Big  Cactus. — Mari- 
copa and  Pimo  Indians.  — Well-to-do  Aborigines.  — Indian 
Traders. — Pimo  Wigwams. — Our  then  Indian  Policy.  — Good 
Roads. — Sparse  Population.  — Big  Cactus  and  Bunch-grass. — 
Picacho  and  Point  of  Mountains.  — Climate.  — Apaches, 
etc 355-373 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Tucson  to  Prescott. 

Tucson. — Misses  a “ Sensation.” — Population. — A Mexican  Padre. — 

• High  Prices. — The  Santa  Cruz. — Climate. — Apaches. — Black- 
birds.— Rip  Van  Winkle  Town. — Headquarters  of  Military  Dis- 
trict.— Route  of  Supplies. — Libertad  and  Guaymas  Routes  — 
Copper  and  Silver  Mines. — Church  at  San  Xavier. — Maricopa 
Wells  again. — Freshets  in  the  Gila  and  Salado. — Col.  Critten- 
den, etc. — An  Out-of-the-way  Place. — A Fortunate  Discovery. 
— Crossing  the  Gila. — Brave  Louis  Heller. — Mules  on  a Swim. — 
Crossing  the  Salado. — Fort  McDowell. — Down  the  Salado. — 
Among  the  Apaches. — Poor  Cavalry-horses. — A Blind  Road. 
— The  Agua  Frio. — White  Tanks. — A Supperless  Night. — Up 
the  Hassayampa. — A Hard  Road  to  Travel. — Arizoua  Quick- 
sands. — No  Hurry  for  Population  or  Business.  — Roads  and 
Bridges  Wanted 374-389 


XY111 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Tucson  to  Prescott  (continued). 

Wickenburg. — Tlie  Vulture  Mine. — A Fine  Quartz-mill. — A Valu- 
able Mining  Property. — San  Francisco  Mountains. — Singular 
Roads. — Skull  Valley. — Sparse  Population. — Apaches  and  Yav- 
apais. — Bell’s  Canon. — Indian  Attacks  generally. — The  Inter- 
vening Country. — Ancient  Ruins  and  Broken  Pottery. — A Huge 
Acequia. — Work  for  Antiquarians. — Good  Bottoms  along  the 
Salado  and  Gila. — A Railroad  Much  Needed.  . . 390-396 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Prescott , the  Apaches , etc . 

Prescott. — A New-England-like  Village. — An  Army  Officer’s  Opinion. 
— Location,  Plan,  Buildings,  etc. — A Barber’s  Opinion. — Her 
Gold  and  Silver  Mines. — Her  Quartz-mills  Idle. — Mining  Opera- 
tions “ Sick.” — Her  Advantages,  however. — Capital  of  Arizona. 
— Population  of  Territory. — The  Indians. — The  Apaches  gener- 
ally.— Their  Brave  Exploits. — Good  Horse-thieves. — Their  Wise 
Strategy. — Their  Captive  Children. — A Raid  near  Prescott. — 
Their  Pursuit  to  Hell  Canon  and  beyond. — Gen.  Irvin  Gregg. — 
A Fight  with  the  Apaches. — A Dangerous  District. — A Typical 
Emigrant.  — Aztec  Remains.  — A Fine  Wild  Turkey.  — Fort 
Whipple.  — A Costly  Post.  — An  Expensive  Flag-staff,  etc. — 
Hail,  Cavalry  Gregg ! 397-408 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Prescott  to  Los  Angelos. 

Off  for  Los  Angelos. — Williamson’s  Valley. — Wild  Game. — Juniper 
Mountain.  — Rock  Springs.  — Cottonwood  Canon.  — Beale’s 
Springs. — A Desolate  Country. — Sage-brush  and  Grease-wood. — 
Want  of  Water. — Indians  again. — Sublime  Scenery. — Union 
Pass. — Rio  Colorado  again. — Mojave  Indians. — Our  Indian  Pol- 
icy then. — Fort  Mojave. — A Rude  Post. — A Pittsburg  Lady 
“ Roughing  it  ” there.  — Hardy  ville.  — Adjacent  Mines.  — Mr. 
Hardy  himself. — Costly  Transportation  the  Great  Drawback  to 
Arizona. — The  Colorado  should  be  Utilized. — Beaver  Lake. — 
A Desert  Country  again. — Changes  of  Elevation. — Heat  and 


CONTENTS. 


XIX 


Rattlesnakes.  — Interesting  Bed-fellows.  — Pai-Ute  Hill.  — A 
Break-down. — Camp  Rock  Springs. — Onr  Frontier  Posts  gener- 
ally.— Soda  Lake. — A Weary  and  Anxious  Sunday. — An  Indian 
Scare.  — Mojave  River.  — Strange  Anomalies  in  Arizona  and 
Southern  California.  — A Dismal  Ranchman.  — Camp  Cady. — 
Cajon  Pass. — San  Bernardino. — The  Los  Angelos  Plains  again. 
— “ Out  of  the  Wilderness.” — Back  to  ’Frisco  by  Sea.  . 409-424 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

San  Francisco  to  Virginia  City. 

Off  for  Sacramento.  — Fellow-passengers. — Children. — Sacramento 
River. — Sacramento  City. — Thence  by  Railroad. — Country  gen- 
erally.— The  Wheat  Fields  and  Live  Oaks. — The  Foot-hills. — 
Placer  Mining. — Water-ditches. — Hydraulic  Mining. — Changes 
in  Climate. — Central  Pacific  Railroad. — Cisco.  — The  Sierra 
Nevadas. — Deep  Snows  still.  May  17tli. — Snow-slieds. — John 
Chinaman  again. — Donner  Lake. — The  Truckee. — The  Geiger 

Grade. — Sunday  in  Nevada. — A Noted  Revivalist -Virginia 

City. — The  Comstock  Lode. — Silver  Mining  generally.  — The 
Sutro  Tunnel. — Mining  a Risky  Business.  . . . 425-436 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Virginia  City  to  Stockton. 

Return  by  Placerville. — Carson  City. — Carson  River  and  Valley. — 
The  Sierras  again. — Mountain  Turnpikes. — A Rough  Night’s 
Travel. — Crossing  the  Summit. — An  Ambitious  Mother  and  her 
Florence  Mary. — A Morning  Ride. — Lake  Tahoe. — Splendid 
Stage-driving. — Placerville. — Sacramento  City  again. — Califor- 
nia’s Wealth  of  Roses,  etc. — Country  to  Stockton. — Live  Oaks. — 
Wheat-fields. — Vineyards. — Flocks  and  Herds. — Wind-mills. — 
Stockton  itself. 437-442 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Stockton  to  the  Vosemite . 

Off  for  the  Yo-sem-i-te. — Wheat-fields  again. — The  Stanislaus  and 
Tuolomne. — The  Coast  Range. — Coulterville. — A Horseback 
Ride. — Mustang  Pony. — My  Guide. — Bower  Cave. — “ Black’s.” — 


XX 


CONTENTS. 


A Romantic  Trail. — Up  and  Over  the  Sierras. — Floundering 
through  the  Snows. — First  View  of  the  Yosemite. — Fording 
Mountain  Torrents. — Descent  into  the  Valley. — “ Hutchings’.” — 
A Ramble  through  the  Yosemite. — A Fissure  in  the  Sierras. — 
Its  Lofty  Walls.  — Snowbanks  above ; Strawberries  below. 
— Waterfalls. — Bridal  Veil  Fall. — El  Capitan. — Yosemite  Fall. 
— Merced  River. — The  Lake  and  Domes. — South  Fork. — Prof. 
Whitney  and  Party. — The  Cascades. — Vernal  Fall. — Rainbows. 
— Nevada  Fall.  — Mt.  Broderick. — Sentinel  Peak. — Cathedral 
Rocks. — The  Valley  generally 443-455 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  Yosemite  to  San  Francisco. 

Prof.  Whitney  again. — The  Mariposa  Trail. — Inspiration  Point. — 
A Sublime  View.  — The  Hermitage.  — The  Snow  again.  — A 
Grizzly  Bear  and  Cubs. — The  Sugar  Pines. — The  South  Merced. 
— “ Clark’s.” — Galen  Clark  himself. — Mariposa  Big  Trees. — 
Grizzly  Giant,  etc. — The  Species  generally. — California’s  Duty. 
— Mariposa. — A Sleepy  Town. — Honitos. — Bear  Valley. — The 
Coast  Range  and  Mt.  Diabolo. — Stockton  again. — Back  to  San 
Francisco. 456-465 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

San  Francisco  to  Few  York. 

Ride  to  San  Jose.— Off  for  New  York. — The  Weather.— Delightful 
Voyaging.  — The  Constitution. — Fellow-passengers. — Cape  St. 
Lucas.  — Manzanillo. — Acapulco.  — A Mexican  Sea-port.  — 
“Greasers.” — Good  Divers. — Sights  Ashore. — The  Cathedral. — 
The  Old  Spanish  Fort. — Off  for  Panama. — Panama  itself. — 
Location.  — Business  and  People.  — Railroad  to  Aspinwall. 
—Breakdown  in  a Jungle.— Tropical  Scenery. — The  Railroad 
itself.— The  Natives.— Aspinwall.— The  Rising  Star.— New  Pas- 
sengers.—Caribbean  Sea.— Cuba.— Gulf  Stream.— Sandy  Hook. 


— Home  again. — “ Adios.” 466-477 

Appendix 481-492 


INDEX. 


493 


Across  America; 


OR, 

THE  GREAT  WEST  AND  THE  PACIFIC  COAST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FROM  NEW  YORK  TO  FORT  RILEY,  KANSAS. 

ACROSS  America,  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco, 
may  be  roughly  estimated  as  three  thousand  miles. 
The  first  third  of  this  occupied  us  only  about  three  days 
and  three  nights,  though  the  whole  trip  consumed  just  less 
than  a twelve-month.  From  New  York  to  St.  Louis, 
via  Cincinnati,  was  our  first  stage,  and  of  course  by  rail- 
road. We  left  New  York,  Tuesday,  July  2J,  1866,  by 
the  Erie  Railway,  and  on  the  following  Thursday  after- 
noon reached  St.  Louis  in  time  for  a late  dinner.  Tarry- 
ing here  a day  or  two,  to  pick  up  some  information  about 
the  Plains,  we  passed  on  to  Leavenworth ; and  thence, 
after  a longer  pause  to  Fort  Riley.  The  Union  Pacific 
Railroad,  Eastern  Division  (or  Kansas  Pacific,  as  it  is 
now  generally  called),  halted  then  at  Waumega.  some 
thirty  miles  from  Fort  Riley,  whence  we  reached  Riley 
by  stage-coach.  The  coach  itself  was  a lumbering 
weather-beaten  vehicle,  with  sorry  teams  of  horses;  it 
was  ahot  August  afternoon,  with  rolling  clouds  of  dust; 


22 


THE  GREAT  WEST 


we  had  nine  passengers  inside  and  three  outside,  with 
freight  and  baggage  everywhere ; and  altogether  this 
little  stage-ride  was  a good  initiation  into  the  mysteries 
and  miseries  of  stage-coaching  across  the  continent. 

From  New  York  to  St.  Louis  is  already  a series  of 
towns  and  cities,  with  the  country  as  a whole  well  settled 
up,  for  America.  The  Great  West,  it  is  soon  seen,  is  no 
longer  the  valley  of  Ohio  and  the  prairies  of  Illinois.  It 
has  long  since  crossed  the  Mississippi,  and  emigrated 
beyond  the  Missouri.  What  used  to  be  called  the  “ West” 
has  already  become  the  centre ; and  “ out  west”  now 
means  Kansas  or  Colorado,  if  anything  at  all.  The  Erie 
road,  with  its  broad-gauge  coaches,  takes  you  through 
the  picturesque,  as  well  as  rich  and  fertile  regions  of 
northern  New  Jersey,  and  western  New  York,  whence 
the  ride  through  Ohio,  down  the  lovely  valley  of  the 
Miami  to  Cincinnati,  is  substantially  as  through  a garden. 
Over  much  of  this  region,  it  is  plain  to  be  seen,  New 
England  has  left  her  mark,  never  to  be  etfaced.  Her 
school-houses  and  churches,  her  intelligence  and  thrift, 
are  all  reproduced  (only  slightly  westernized),  and  one 
can  see  that  he  is  in  Yankee-land  still  at  a glance.  You 
might  know  it,  by  the  omnipresence  of  white  paint  and 
green  blinds,  if  nothing  else.  You  see  it  in  the  average 
inhabitant  and  detect  it  in  his  speech.  And  yet  it  is 
Yankee-land,  with  enlarged  freedom  and  independence 
of  thought  and  action,  and  therefore  doubly  welcome. 
Southern  Indiana  and  Illinois,  you  find  rapidly  tilling 
up  ; but  they  still  seem  much  behind  that  sunny  heart 
of  Ohio,  the  Miami  Talley.  Populated  largely  by  the 
overflow  from  Kentucky  and  Tennessee — chiefly  the 
“ poor  whites”  of  those  former  slave  states — the  results 
are  everywhere  unmistakable.  Evident^,  even  to  the 
passing  traveller,  the  average  Iloosier  or  Sucker,  as  yet, 


CHICAGO 


23 


is  much  behind  the  average  Buckeye,  and  he  will  find 
’t  a hard  task  to  overtake  him.  The  lineal  descendant 
of  the  Cavalier  and  the  Corncracker,  how  can  he  expect 
to  compete  successfully  with  the  regular  representative 
of  the  Roundhead  and  the  Yankee? 

Cincinnati  and  St.  Louis  strike  you  as  large  and 
growing  cities ; but  they  do  not  impress  you  like  Chicago, 
at  least  as  she  did  before  the  great  fire.  They  seem  to 
have  taken  Quaker  Philadelphia,  as  their  type  and  model, 
rather  than  buoyant  New  York.  Many  of  their  streets, 
you  find  similarly  named,  and  a like  atmosphere  per- 
vades much  of  their  business.  In  talking  with  their 
magnates  of  trade  and  finance,  you  note  a conservative 
tone,  that  illy  accords  with  your  ideas  of  the  West,  and 
you  are  inclined  to  wonder  whether  the  far-famed  push 
and  pluck  of  that  romantic  region  are  not  myths  after 
all.  Buffalo  and  Toledo,  Cleveland  and  Chicago,  how- 
ever, would  soon  undeceive  you — especially,  Chicago. 
The  push  and  drive,  the  enterprise  and  elan  of  New 
York,  that  are  reproduced  so  well  along  our  northern  tier 
of  cities,  all  culminated  at  Chicago — at  least  before  the 
fire — until  she  seemed  New  York  incarnate  or  even 
intensified.  The  metropolis  and  brain  of  the  northwest, 
how  a day  in  her  busy  streets  braced  and  inspired  one  ! 
With  all  her  brave  memories  of  the  past,  no  wonder  she 
still  believes  enthusiastically  in  herself,  and  even  in  her 
ashes  doubted  not  her  future ! 

St.  Louis,  long  her  rival  in  trade,  we  found  just 
beginning  to  recover  from  the  benumbing  effects  of 
slavery  and  the  rebellion.  The  rebellion,  sealing  up  her 
railroads  and  extinguishing  her  down-river  trade,  had 
given  her  a bad  set  back.  But  she  was  already  fast  pick- 
ing up  the  broken  threads  of  her  commerce,  and  was 
again  preparing  to  contend  with  Chicago  for  the  palm  of 


24 


ST.  LOUIS 


supremacy.  Seated  on  the  Mississippi,  with  a vast 
river  trade  up  and  down,  and  an  immense  region  back 
of  her,  her  geographical  position  could  scarcely  be  sur- 
passed, and  no  doubt  she  has  a grand  and  noble  future 
before  her.  Her  levees,  we  found,  thronged  with  steam- 
ers, some  up  for  New  Orleans  1,200  miles  south  ; others 
for  Fort  Benton  3,100  miles  north  and  west.  Her  pop- 
ulation already  exceeded  a quarter  of  a million.  Her 
suburbs  were  steadily  tilling  up,  in  spite  of  numerous 
sinkholes  in  the  limestone  formation  there.  Her  streets 
were  already  well  gridironed  with  horse-railroads.  Her 
facilities  for  business  were  large  and  increasing.  And 
with  her  vast  system  of  rivers,  north  to  the  British  Do- 
minion and  south  to  the  gulf,  and  her  rapidly  develop- 
ing back  country — even  to  the  Roclsy  Mountains  and 
New  Mexico — nature  seems  to  have  destined  her  to 
become  the  great  and  abiding  metropolis  of  all  that 
region.  Her  vast  bridge  and  tunnels  were  not  yet 
begun,  but  she  was  already  prophesying  great  things  for 
the  future. 

From  St.  Louis,  three  hundred  miles  through  Mis- 
souri, to  Leavenworth,  Kansas,  you  find  a noble  region, 
that  needs  only  a live  population  to  make  it  a garden. 
It  is  mostly  rich  rolling  prairie,  but  with  more  timber 
and  streams  than  in  Illinois,  and  with  limestone  abound- 
ing nearly  everywhere.  All  along  the  route,  it  was 
plain  to  be  seen,  Missouri  had  suffered  sadly  from  slavery. 
Both  in  population  and  business,  in  town  and  country, 
clearly  “ the  trail  of  the  serpent”  had  been  over  her  all. 
But  the  wave  of  immigration,  now  that  slavery  was  dead, 
had  already  reached  her,  and  we  found  its  healthful  cur 
rents  everywhere  overflowing  her  bottoms  and  prairies. 
The  new-comers  seemed  to  be  largely  Yankee  and  Ger- 
man, almost  everywhere.  France  once  so  predominant 


MISSOURI  — LEAVENWORTH 


25 


here,  was  already  supplanted  by  Germany,  and  the  Teu- 
ton bade  fair  to  rule  Missouri  soon,  even  then.  At  Her- 
mann, where  we  stopped  for  dinner,  a German  Hebe 
tendered  us  excellent  native  wine,  and  the  culture  of  the 
grape,  we  learned,  had  already  become  a leading  indus- 
try of  this  section  of  the  state.  The  sturdy  Hh  in  e-men, 
as  true  to  freedom  as  in  the  days  of  Tacitus,  were  already 
everywhere  planting  vineyards,  and  in  the  near  future 
were  sure  of  handsome  returns  from  petty  farms,  that  our 
old  time  “ Pikes”  and  “Border  Ruffians”  would  have 
starved  on.  Throughout  the  ride,  the  Missouri  or  Big- 
Muddy,  as  the  Indians  call  it,  was  often  in  sight,  a broad 
tawny  stream  ; and  many  of  its  bends  and  reaches  were 
so  beautiful,  that  it  hardly  seemed  to  deserve  that  savage 
criticism  of  Bayard  Taylor’s,  as  being  “ too  lazy  to  wash 
itself.”  Its  banks  as  a rule  are  higher  and  better,  than 
those  of  the  Mississippi  anywhere  below  Cairo,  and  its 
bottom  lands  seemed  unsurpassed  in  fertility. 

Leavenworth,  on  the  Missouri,  where  it  takes  a final 
bend  north,  was  still  the  entrepot  for  New  Mexico  and 
the  plains.  Omaha  had  already  tapped  the  Colorado 
and  Utah  trade  and  travel,  and  has  since  mainly  absorbed 
them,  by  the  completion^!'  the  Union  Pacific  railroad. 
But  Leavenworth  still  had  a large  trade  and  travel  of  her 
own,  as  a point  of  departure  for  New  Mexico  and  the 
Plains,  and  seemed  destined  to  maintain  it.  Only  a 
decade  or  so  before,  she  was  without  a house  or  inhabit- 
ant ; but  now  she  claimed  thirty-thousand  people,  and 
was  rapidly  increasing.  We  found  many  handsome 
stores  and  elegant  residences  everywhere  going  up. 
Her  streets  were  fast  being  graded  and  macadamized,  and 
the  guttering  especially  was  most  solid  and  substantial. 
She  had  several  daily  papers  already,  with  weekly 
editions  of  a large  circulation.  Many  of  her  stores  were 


2 


26 


LAWRENCE TOPEKA JUNCTION  CITY 


doing  a wholesale  business  of  a million  of  dollars 
annually.  A fine  Catholic  church  was  being  erected, 
which  when  completed  promised  to  be  the  chief  ornament 
of  the  city.  But  the  largest  and  showiest  building  there 
then  was  a combined  brewery  and  dance  house,  which 
augured  badly  for  the  town.  Off  on  the  suburbs  of  the 
city,  we  passed  a park  of  wagons  or  “ prairie-schooners,” 
acres  in  extent,  tangible  evidence  that  we  had  already 
struck  the  commerce  of  the  Plains. 

By  Lawrence  and  Topeka,  already  towns  of  several 
thousand  people,  over  the  historic  plains  of  Kansas,  we 
sped  along  up  the  valley  of  the  Kaw  or  Kansas  to 
Waumega;  and  thence,  as  I have  said,  by  stage  to  Fort 
Biley.  Junction  City,  just  beyond  Fort  Biley,  at  the 
confluence  of  the  Bepublican  and  Smoky  Hill  rivers,  wo 
found  to  be  a hamlet  of  several  hundred  people,  snd 
already  growing  rapidly.  It  had  been  projected,  with 
the  expectation  that  the  railroad  would  bend  north  here, 
and  ascending  the  Bepublican  go  thence  to  Denver, 
which  would  have  made  Junction  the  last  station  and 
grand  depot  for  all  New  Mexico  and  much  of  the  Bocky 
Mountain  region.  But,  as  it  had  been  decided  afterwards 
to  keep  on  up  the  Smoky  Hill  instead,  Junction  had 
missed  of  much  of  its  importance.  Its  location,  how- 
ever, was  good,  at  the  confluence  thus  of  two  rivers ; 
and  wflth  its  single  street  of  straggling  houses,  of  all 
styles  of  architecture,  and  in  every  stage  of  construction, 
it  was  a good  specimen  of  a frontier  town,  in  the  first 
year  of  its  settlement. 

The  country  as  a whole,  thus  far  through  Kansas, 
much  surpassed  our  expectations.  Not  only  were  the 
broad  bottoms  of  the  Kaw  everywhere  dotted  with 
farms,  but  even  the  high  rolling  prairies  beyond  wrere 
fast  settling  up.  Of  course,  settlements  grew  more 


KANSAS  GENERALLY 


27 


scattering  the  farther  we  progressed  westward  ; but  they 
were  always  in  sight  and  everywhere  rapidly  increasing. 
Herds  of  horses  and  cattle  grazed  along  the  bottoms,  and 
grouse  and  sage-liens  whirred  up  by  the  roadside  as  we 
sped  along.  At  one  point,  a brace  of  oxen,  yoked 
together,  got  upon  the  track,  and  our  engine  mangled  the 
poor  beasts  dreadfully  before  they  escaped.  The  road, 
as  yet,  was  poorly  ditched,  and  without  fences  on  either 
side,  so  that  horses  and  cattle  strayed  across  it  quite  at 
will.  The  wheat-crop  had  everywhere  been  fair,  and 
Indian  corn  was  promising  to  be  magnificent.  Corn  had 
looked  well,  all  through  Ohio  and  Indiana,  Illinois  and 
Missouri ; but  in  the  Kansas  bottoms  it  was  superb  in  its 
“embattled  glory,”  and  seemed  to  be  a great  favorite 
with  the  farmers.  Indeed,  Kansas,  both  in  soil  and 
climate,  is  a rare  state,  and  well  worth  to  freedom  all  the 
blood  and  treasure  she  cost  us.  True  she  lacks  timber  ; 
but  so  far  she  had  got  along,  and  the  weight  of  testimony 
seemed  everywhere  to  be  that  her  growth  of  timber 
improved  with  the  reclamation  and  settlement  of  the 
country.  The  Indian  was  everywhere  retiring  before 
the  pale  faces,  and  the  autumnal  fires  ceasing  with  his 
departure,  bushes  and  trees  soon  appeared,  and  we  heard 
repeated  instances  of  springs  even  breaking  out,  where 
none  had  been  known  before.  As  an  offset  to  her  want 
of  timber,  coal  had  been  discovered  in  many  places,  and 
all  through  the  valley  of  the  Kaw,  she  has  a cream-colored 
limestone  in  the  bluffs,  that  works  up  beautifully  for 
building  purposes.  When  first  quarried,  it  is  so  soft  that 
a common  hand-saw  or  chisel  can  dress  it  into  any  shape 
desired  ; but  exposure  to  the  atmosphere  soon  hardens  it, 
and  then  it  continues  so.  In  appearance  it  resembles 
the  Milwaukee  free-stone,  that  used  to  make  Michigan 
Avenue,  Chicago,  so  handsome  and  stately,  and  as  a 


28 


SCENERY  AND  POPULATION 


building  material  will  prove  immensely  valuable  through 
all  Southern  Kansas.  At  Junction  City  it  was  being 
got  out  by  machinery,  and  fashioned  into  blocks  by  horse- 
power. A company  controlled  the  business,  and  as  they 
could  furnish  this  elegant  stone  at  a much  less  cost  than 
lumber  or  brick,  they  were  anticipating  very  handsome 
profits. 

The  scenery  of  Kansas  possesses  many  points  of  inter- 
est, but  as  a whole  lacks  grandeur  and  sublimity.  The 
view  from  Prospect  Ridge,  back  of  Leavenworth,  up  and 
down  the  Missouri,  is  good  ; but  the  landscape  from 
Indian  Point,  near  Junction  City,  up  the  Smoky  Hill, 
has  more  scope  and  variety,  and  was  the  finest  we  saw. 
Here,  and  at  other  points,  are  some  superb  specimens  of 
river  terraces.  We  counted  four  and  five  separate 
“ benches,”  as  they  call  them  there,  or  terraces,  in  many 
places,  and  the  ancient  water-marks  of  past  geologic  ages 
seemed  very  evident.  The  rounded  appearance  of  the 
country  generally,  cropping  out  here  and  there  into 
rough  and  misshapen  ridges,  indicated  pretty  clearly  the 
former  water-line,  and  we  often  interested  ourselves  in 
tracing  it  for  miles. 

Kansas,  of  course,  abounds  in  enterprise ' and  thrift. 
Saved  to  freedom  by  Sharpe’s  rifles  and  the  Bible,  she 
invested  largely  in  the  school-house  and  the  church,  and 
already  reaps  her  fit  reward.  Her  Yankees  whittle  away 
just  as  cutely  as  they  used  to  in  New  England,  and  her 
Western  men  spread  themselves  hugely  as  elsewhere. 
Since  the  war,  she  had  received  quite  a large  accession  of 
population  from  our  ex-officers  and  soldiers.  We  found 
specimens  of  the  Boys  in  Blue  scattered  almost  everywhere, 
and  usually  they  were  doing  well.  A fine  esprit  du  corps 
animated  them,  and  will  keep  them  knit  together  for  the 
future.  At  various  points  we  found  them  just  “ squatted  ” 


FALL-LEAF  AND  GEN.  JACKSON 


29 


on  a quarter* section,  and  with  the  very  rudest  surround- 
ings, but  ever  plucky  and  hopeful.  At  Junction  we  met 
a late  Paymaster,  IT.  S.  Vol’s.,  who  was  half-owner  of  the 
chief  grocery  and  liquor-store,'  as  well  as  partner  in  a 
stone-quarry,  and  was  about  establishing  a National  Bank. 
He  was  a man  of  spirit  and  enterprise,  and  seemed  to 
have  enough  surplus  energy  left  for  several  more 
employments. 

At  Leavenworth,  up  at  the  old  Fort,  we  saw  our  first 
Indians — a party  of  Delawares.  They  consisted  of  Fall- 
Leaf,  war-chief  of  the  Delawares,  his  nephew  General 
Jackson,  and  a handful  of  other  braves.  They  were 
dressed  in  the  usual  rough  costume  of  the  border,  but 
with  an  eagle-feather  or  two  in  their  broad-brimmed  som- 
breros trailing  in  the  wind.  Fall-Leaf  was  a noble  speci- 
men of  the  Indian  in  a half-civilized  state.  He  was  a 
brawny,  athletic,  powerful  fellow,  five  feet  eleven  inches 
high,  weighed  one  hundred  and  ninety-six  pounds,  and 
was  fifty-five  years  old.  A perfect  mass  of  bone  and  muscle, 
without  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh,  his  frame  was  a 
sight  to  look  upon — especially  the  massive  splendor  of  his 
neck  and  chest.  A Hercules  of  the  Plains,  we  could  well 
believe  the  stories  told  df  his  great  strength  and  powers 
of  endurance.  General  Jackson  was  a lithe,  light-built 
man,  about  thirty-six  years  of  age,  and  in  physique 
almost  the  opposite  of  his  brawny  uncle.  Three  of  them 
had  just  been  engaged  as  guides  to  a military  expedition 
about  leaving  for  the  Indian  country,  and  a fourth  was 
going  along  as  interpreter.  Fall-Leaf  had  long  served  the 
government,  with  marked  fidelity,  as  guide  on  the  Plains 
and  in  the  far  Indian  country,  and  received  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  per  month  and  rations  when  absent  on 
such  duty.  He  was  familiar  with  the  whole  country 
west,  as  far  as  the  Pocky  Mountains,  and  southward  to 


30 


THE  DELAWARES- 


New  Mexico,  and  was  reputed  as  invaluable  in  his  way. 
He  told  me  the  Delawares  numbered  about  a thousand 
souls  yet,  and  had  stood  at  those  figures  for  several  years. 
They  occupy  a Reservation  of  several  thousand  acres  on 
the  Missouri  just  below  Leavenworth,  and  are  engaged 
generally  in  farming  and  stock-raising.  They  have  a 
church,  pretty  generally  attended,  and  a good  school,  well- 
patronized.  He  said  his  people  were  fully  impressed 
with  the  importance  of  education  and  religion,  and  gen- 
erally there  was  an  earnest  desire  among  them  to  have 
their  children  learn  all  “ Pale-Face  ways.”  He  said  he 
took  a drink  of  “ fire-water  ” himself  occasionally,  on  cold 
or  wet  days,  and  rather  liked  it ; but  that,  as  a rule, 
drunkenness  was  on  the  decrease  among  the  Delawares, 
and  he  was  glad  of  it.  He  had  a wife  and  eight  children, 
and  said  they  allowed  “ only  one  wife  at  a time  in  his  tribe.” 
lie  said  he  was  born  far  away  toward  the  rising  sun,  on  a 
river  among  the  mountains ; and  when  I showed  him  a 
map,  he  immediately  pointed  out  the  head- waters  of  the 
Delaware.  When  I told  him  I had  just  come  from  there, 
and  that  my  “ wigwam  ” stood  upon  its  banks,  he  seemed 
greatly  interested.  The  first  steamboat  he  ever  saw,  was 
many  years  before  at  St.  Louis,  and  he  thought  it  “Very 
good,”  because  “ It  w^ent  itself  ! Puff ! Puff* ! No  paddle ! ” 
His  first  locomotive,  was  quite  recently  at  Leavenworth, 
and  he  thought  it  “ Much  good  ! Went  whiz  ! Beat  buf- 
falo or  pony  ! ” Of  the  telegraph,  he  said,  “ I no  under- 
stand ; but  very  much  good  ! Heap  swift  ! Like  arrow  or 
bullet  between  wide  places  ; only  heap  better ! ” 

He  said,  the  Delawares  believed  in  the  Great  Mani- 
tou,  who  made  earth,  and  sky,  and  everything;  but  many 
did  not  believe  in  the  Evil  Manitou.  Pie  himself  seem- 
ed to  be  a pretty  good  Universalist.  He  thought  God 
“very  much  good,”  and  could’ nt  imagine  how  any  lesser 


A GALLANT  INDIAN 


31 


being  could  interfere  with  Him.  “ Perhaps,  Evil  Mani- 
tou  somewhere  ; but  Fall- Leaf  know  only  Good  Manitou.” 
He  admitted  some  of  his  people  believed  in  spirits;  but 
he  himself  had  never  seen  any,  and  was  skeptical  on  the 
whole  subject.  Some  medicine-men,  he  said,  claimed  to 
have  seen  them,  and  to  be  able  to  control  them  ; but  he 
thought  the  whole  thing  “ a heap  humbug.” 

Fall-Leaf,  as  I have  said,  was  then  War  Chief  of  the 
Delawares.  In  his  time  he  had  been  quite  a noted  war- 
rior, and  was  proud  of  his  reputation  for  bravery  and 
prowess.  His  last  tight  against  the  Plains  Indians  had 
been  about  two  years  before,  when  he  covered  the  retreat 
of  a squad  of  infantry,  from  a body  of  mounted  Chey- 
ennes and  Arrapahoes,  and  brought  them  all  safely  off. 
His  last  tight  at  the  head  of  the  Delawares  had  been 
some  ten  years  before,  when  with  less  than  fifty  warriors 
he  encountered  and  fought  over  two  hundred  Pawnees, 
and  whipped  them  well.  Altogether,  he  supposed,  he 
had  killed  and  scalped  two  or  three  hundred  Indians,  in 
his  time ; but  never  a pale-face.  He  was  a dignified  and 
quiet  enough  looking  Red  Skin  to  talk  to  through  an  inter- 
preter, and  occasionally  would  grunt  out  a little  broken 
English  himself ; but  when  roused,  and  with  the  fury 
of  battle  upon  him,  no  doubt  he  would  be  an  ugly  cus- 
tomer to  deal  with.  His  face  was  full  of  smothered  force 
and  fire,  of  latent  power  and  fierceness,  like  a tamed 
tiger’s ; and  notwithstanding  his  peaceful  demeanor,  he 
all  the  while  suggested  that  a single  war-whoop,  or  a 
scalping-knife  flashing  through  the  air,  would  speedily 
transform  the  gentle  Fall-Leaf  into  a hideous  savage  again. 

Beyond  Topeka  we  passed  St.  Mary’s,  a Catholic 
Mission  among  the  Pottawotamies.  These  Indians  had  a 
Reservation  there  then  thirty  miles  square,  of  as  fine  land 
as  there  was  in  Kansas.  Stock-raising  seemed  to  be  their 


32 


THE  POTT  AW  ATOMIES 


chief  occupation,  though  they  had  some  fields  well 
fenced,  and  their  corn  crops  were  looking  well.  They 
lived  in  one-story  log-cabins,  and  by  dint  of  years  of 
hard  work  the  missionaries  had  succeeded  in  reducing 
them  to  a sort  of  semi-  civilization ; but  the  aborigine 
survived  still,  and  cropped  out  fearfully  everywhere.  It 
was  an  anomaly  and  an  anachronism  to  see  them  driving 
teams  and  threshing  grain ; and  they  themselves  seemed 
to  confess  it  by  their  awkwardness.  Beyond  Manhattan- 
ville  we  met  en  route  a large  party  of  them — braves, 
squaws  and  papooses — returning  from  a Buffalo  hunt  on 
the  Plains.  Some  were  in  wagons  with  their  spoils  of 
buffalo  meat  and  robes ; but  the  majority  went  careering 
along  on  horseback.  Most  of  them  were  in  semi-civilized 
costume,  not  much  rougher  than  an  average  borderer, 
though  their  head-gear  usually  ran  much  to  feather.  A. 
few  of  their  young  squaws  were  decidedly  pretty  and 
piquant,  and,  as  they  ambled  by  on  their  gaily-caparison- 
ed ponies,  created  quite  a sensation  among  us  ; but  the 
older  ones  were  hideous  looking  hags. 

In  all  this  part  of  Kansas,  the  Indian  had  already  had 
his  day,  and  everywhere  was  being  fast  eliminated.  The 
valleys  of  the  Kaw  and  its  two  chief  tributaries,  the  Repub- 
lican and  Smoky  Hill,  had  already  heard  the  whistle  of 
the  white  man’s  locomotive,  and  the  whole  region  there 
was  beginning  to  shake  with  the  tread  of  the  onward 
march  of  civilization.  As  “ Bleeding  Kansas,”  she  had 
had  her  dark  days ; but  these,  happily,  were  past,  and 
the  tide  wave  of  eastern  immigration  was  now  surging 
and  swelling  all  up  and  down  her  borders.  We  met 
cheery  voices  and  friendly  hands  at  every  stage  of  pro- 
gress; and  could  not  but  bid  Kansas  a hearty  God-speed 
as  we  journeyed  on. 


CHAPTER  II. 


FROM  THE  KANSAS  TO  TIIE  PLATTE. 

IT  was  the  middle  of  August,  before  I was  ready  to 
leave  Fort  Riley ; and  now  a word  about  my  compa- 
gnons  du  voyage.  These  were  two,  Mr.  J.  D.  L.  of  Boston, 
my  well-tried  clerk  and  friend ; and  Dr.  B.  E.  M.  of  New 

York,  then  recently  Ass’t.  Editor Magazine. 

Mr.  L.  had  been  with  me  for  several  years  in  the  field 
and  at  post;  was  active,  intelligent,  alert;  and  was  as 
capital  a shot,  as  he  was  rare  a penman.  Dr.  M.  I knew 
but  slightly ; but  he  came  well-recommended,  as  a 
literateur  and  gentleman,  and  I was  glad  to  have  his 
company.  He  had  been  considerable  of  a traveller  in 
Europe,  and  was  now  desirous  of  crossing  the  Continent 
to  San  Francisco,  whence  he  might  go  over  to  Japan 
and  China.  Another  gentleman  had  also  talked  much 
of  joining  us  ; but  his  heart  failed  him  at  the  last  hour, 
and  he  preceded  us  to  California,  via  the  Isthmus. 

My  inspections  at  Leavenworth  and  Riley  being  com- 
pleted, we  left  Fort  Riley  just  after  sunrise  Aug.  16th,  and 
soon  were  fairly  afloat  on  the  Plains,  and  off  for  the 
Pacific.  Hitherto  the  railroad  had  still  served  to  con- 
nect us  with  the  East.  But  now  we  bade  good-bye  to 
cars  and  locomotives,  and  did  not  see  them  again  until 
we  heard  their  tramp  and  whistle  two  thousand  miles 
away,  in  the  canon  of  the  Columbia.  “ Afloat,”  I think, 


34: 


GETTING  UNDER  WAY- 


is  the  only  right  word  for  the  Plains ; because  the  first 
impression  they  give  you  is  that  of  the  sea,  so  vast  is 
their  extent,  and  even  the  wagons  that  cross  them — huge, 
lumbering,  fore-and-aft  vehicles,  with  from  eight  to  ten 
yoke  of  oxen  each — in  border  parlance  are  called  “ Prairie- 
Schooners.” 

My  orders  were  to  proceed  from  Fort  Eiley  on  the 
Kaw  or  Kansas,  to  Fort  Kearney  on  the  Platte;  and,  as 
the  shortest  and  most  direct  route,  we  were  now  off, 
across  the  country,  in  execution  of  them.  Our  route  lay 
northwest  across  the  high  “ divide”  between  the  Kansas 
and  the  Platte,  through  central  Kansas;  and  as  there 
was  no  stage-line  here,  we  had  to  go  by  ambulance. 
Neither  was  there  any  well-defined  road;  but  we  were 
told  that  at  Marysville,  some  sixty  miles  north,  we  could 
strike  the  great  Overland  Koute,  from  Atchison,  Mo.  and 
afterwards  travel  westward  by  that.  Our  “ outfit  ” 
consisted  of  one  ambulance  for  ourselves,  one  army- 
wagon  for  our  escort  of  five  infantry-men,  and  another 
for  baggage,  forage,  and  rations.  Our  friends  at  Eiley 
knew  little  about  the  intervening  country,  except  that 
Indians  were  reported  there  ; and  as  their  cavalry  was 
all  out  scouting,  could  furnish  only  the  infant^  escort, 
as  above.  Even  this  seemed  small ; but  we  were  all 
well-armed  ourselves ; and  what  with  our  repeating  rifles 
and  revolvers,  few  as  we  were,  felt  good  for  fifty  red 
skins  or  more,  come  as  they  would. 

For  the  first  seventy-five  miles  or  so,  we  were  seldom 
out  of  sight  of  scattered  ranches ; but  long  before  reaching 
Fort  Kearney — some  two  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from 
Eiley — they  had  dwindled  away  to  only  the  occasional 
stage-stations,  every  ten  or  twelve  miles  or  so  apart. 
Along  the  creeks  and  streams,  we  found  farms  rapidly 
springing  up ; but  the  “ divides  ” between  these  were 


i 


CAMPING  OUT DIVIDES  — 


35 


generally  barren  and  withered  up.  Oftentimes  we  could 
find  no  water  for  ten  or  twelve  miles,  and  wood  wras 
even  rarer.  Of  course,  we  “ camped-out  ” during  the 
whole  trip,  and  frequently  had  to  carry  our  necessary  fire- 
wood fifteen  and  twenty  miles.  In  the  spring,  all  these 
“ divides,”  as  well  as  the  bottoms,  are  clothed  with 
luxuriant  verdure:  but  in  summer,  the  rainless  atmos- 
phere there  sweeps  over  them,  like  a sirocco,  and  every- 
thing soon  perishes.  At  night,  we  found  the  air  grew 
rapidly  cold,  and  we  shivered  under  our  blankets  ; but 
in  the  middle  of  the  day,  the  sun  fairly  blazed  from  a 
cloudless  sky,  and  I have  seldom  felt  its  effects  more 
severely.  When  we  struck  the  Overland  Route,  we 
found  its  roadway  a mass  of  impalpable  dust,  black  and 
stifling.  With  the  breeze  dead-ahead,  or  athwart  our 
course,  we  got  along  very  well;  but  when  it  chopped 
around  behind  us,  the  black  prairie  soil  rose  in  clouds, 
and  our  poor  mules  suffered  terribly.  Two  of  them, 
indeed,  died  outright,  from  heat  and  dust,  before  reach- 
ing the  Platte,  though  w^e  drove  very  carefully,  seldom 
averaging  over  thirty-five  miles  per  day.  Evidently  this 
part  of  Kansas  must  grow  more  trees,  and  thus  secure 
more  rain  and  moisture,  before  these  high  “divides” 
or  ridges  between  the  Kansas  and  the  Platte  will  amount 
to  much  for  farming  purposes. 

After  a week  of  travelling  like  this,  our  first  sight  of 
the  Platte,  with  its  broad  and  luxuriant  bottoms  weaving 
with  verdure,  was  refreshing  to  the  eye.  Our  jaded 
animals  snuffed  the  water  and  grass  afar  off,  and  of  their 
own  accord  broke  into  a trot  as  we  neared  them.  We 
struck  the  river  at  Valley  Ranclie,  a collection  of  a dozen 
or  so  sod-houses,  some  seven  or  eight  miles  below  Fort 
Kearney.  The  Platte  here  is  a mile  or  more  wide,  and 
looks  like  a noble  stream ; but  it  is  shallow  and  treach- 


36 


THE  PLATTE GRASSHOPPERS — 


erous  with  shoals  and  quicksands,  as  well  as  tainted 
with  alkali,  and  altogether  is  about  as  thorough  a 
swindle  as  a river  can  well  be.  Its  northern  bank  was 
still  fringed  with  cottonwoods,  but  its  southern  had 
scarcely  a bush  to  break  the  monotony.  Ascending  it 
to  Fort  Kearney,  we  found  its  broad  bottoms  literally 
swarming  with  countless  millions  of  Plains  grasshoppers. 
They  really  covered  the  ground,  a moving  army ; they 
tilled  the  air,  coming  in  all  directions,  their  white  wings 
twinkling  like  a snow-squall.  Egypt’s  plague  of  locusts 
could  scarcely  have  been  worse,  for  they  swept  a broad 
tract  of  country  clean  of  everything,  as  they  moved 
eastward.  We  found  the  settlers  complaining  of  them 
bitterly,  as  the  greatest  pests  of  the  region,  destroying- 
all  vegetation  and  forbidding  all  attempts  at  farming, 
Borne  seasons.  Said  a butternut  Missourian,  in  speaking 
of  them : “ The  pesky  varmints!  They  eat  up  all  my 
corn,  and  tobacco.  And  then  when  I cussed  ’em  for  it, 
they  coolly  sat  on  the  Shanghai-fenee  thar,  and  squirted 
tobacco  juice  at  me  ! ” But  they  have  been  almost  as 
bad  in  other  new  states,  at  first,  and  it  was  thought  the 
advance  of  our  line  of  settlements  would  soon  subdue  or 
extirpate  them. 

On  leaving  Riley,  we  had  anticipated  some  good 
shooting  en  route  • but  game  generally  proved  rare,  or 
else  quite  shy.  Prairie-chickens  or  grouse  abounded 
until  we  got  beyond  the  settlements,  when  they  disap- 
peared almost  entirely.  They  are  a timid  bird,  and  hard 
to  approach  on  foot ; but  on  horseback  or  in  a wagon 
you  may  get  close  upon  them  very  easily.  Feeding  in 
the  grass  or  reeds,  in  small  flocks,  at  the  first  sound  they 
pop  their  heads  up  erect,  as  if  inviting  the  sportsman  to 
crack  away  at  them.  This  we  did  continually  from  an 
ambulance  or  behind  it,  and  seldom  went  into  camp  the 


GROUSE — PRAIRIE-DOGS — 


37 


first  few  days  without  prairie-chickens  enough  for 
We  expected  to  see  deer  and  buffalo,  but  were  unable  to 
catch  sight  of  even  one,  being  too  far  east  yet.  As  we 
approached  the  Platte,  we  saw  a solitary  antelope,  gazing 
at  us  from  a distant  bluff ; but  when  we  drew  nearer  he 
wheeled  about  and  dashed  quickly  out  of  sight  among  its 
sand-hills.  Doves  and  cow-birds  appeared  in  quite  con- 
siderable numbers  when  we  struck  the  Overland  Route, 
and,  of  course,  the  crow  or  buzzard  also — the  omni- 
present scavenger  of  the  Plains.  Our  first  prairie-dogs 
turned  up  on  the  Little  Blue,  just  beyond  Thompson’s. 
Here  was  quite  a village  of  the  little  fellows,  witli  their 
sentinels  duly  out ; but  .as  wTe  came  nearer,  the  alarm 
wras  sounded,  and  soon  u whisk”  went  a hundred  tails,  as 
they  plunged  head  downwards  into  their  holes.  A few 
noses  peeped  cautiously  out  as  we  drove  by ; but  the 
most  of  their  dogships  continued  jperdu.  Just  above 
one  hole  a diminutive  owl  still  stood  guard  in  the  deep- 
ening twilight,  and  the  settlers  insisted  that  the  old  yarn 
about  the  prairie-dog,  the  owl,  and  the  rattlesnake  being 
tenants  in  common — all  keeping  house  in  one  and  the 
same  hole — is  really  true.  We  overheard  our  teamsters 
(all  old  Plainsmen)  disputing  about  this  one  night, 
around  their  camp-fire,  as  we  lay  awake  ; but  their  final 
conclusion,  and  the  weight  of  frontier  testimony,  seemed 
to  be  in  favor  of  this  Happy  Family. 

Of  Indians  we  heard  a great  deal,  but  saw 
none.  Rumors  of  them  increased  as  we  moved  north 
and  west ; but,  if  about,  they  gave  us  a wide  berth. 
At  Virginia  Station,  about  half  way,  the  station-keeper 
reported  the  Pawnees  in  force  on  the  Little  Blue ; and  at 
Big  Sandy  the  last  stage-driver  through  from  Fort  Kearny 
reported  Fort  Reno  taken,  Fort  Laramie  besieged  and 
Kearny  itself  in  danger.  He  said,  one  settler  had  already 


38 


RUMORS  OF  INDIANS 


been  lanced  and  killed  on  the  Little  Blue ; that  the  Pawnees 
there — six  hundred  lodges  strong — were  moody  and  hos- 
tile ; and,  as  our  party  was  too  small  for  effective  resistance 
advised  our  return.  Further  on  we  found  ranches  here 
and  there  abandoned,  with  the  crops  left  growing ; and 
one  day  we  descried  a solitary  horseman  in  the  distance 
galloping  rapidly  towards  us,  that  we  were  sure  must  be 
a red  skin.  But  as  he  came  nearer  he  proved  to  be  a 
settler’s  half-grown  boy,  who  had  been  up  the  road  several 
miles  helping  a neighbor  move.  He,  too,  had  heard  “ Big 
Injun”  stories,  but  said  his  people  did  not  mind  them 
much.  These  reports,  at  first,  I confess,  were  rather 
startling,  as  we  had  no  idea  of  losing  our  scalps ; but  as 
our  safe  advance  day  by  day  exploded  one  after  another 
of  them,  we  soon  became  quite  skeptical  on  the  Indian 
question.  The  chief  effect  was  to  increase  our  prudence 
and  vigilance.  We  looked  well  to  our  arms  morning  and 
evening,  and  seldom  halted,  even  briefly,  without  posting  a 
guard.  In  due  time  we  reached  and  passed  the  valley  of  the 
Little  Blue  without  seeing  a Pawnee — they  had  all  gone  off* 
a fortnight  before  to  the  Republican  and  Smoky  Hill  to 
hunt  buffalo — and  finally  arrived  at  Fort  Kearny  in 
safety.  There  they  laughed  at  the  idea  of  Indians  south 
or  east  of  them,  but  confessed  to  ugly  reports  about 
Reno  and  Laramie.  Ultimately,  as  we  got  farther  west, 
these  also  proved  false  ; and  our  conclusion  as  to  Big 
Injun  stories  in  general,  was  not  very  favorable. 

The  few  settlers  along  the  route  consisted  chiefly  of 
Hew  Englanders,  with  a goodly  sprinkling  of  Germans. 
They  generally  had  milk  and  eggs  to  sell,  but  seldom 
butter  or  vegetables.  We  camped  one  night  on  Fancy 
Creek,  near  a Mr.  Segrist’s,  where  we  got  tomatoes  and 
onions,  as  well  as  eggs  and  milk ; and  as  we  had  shot 
several  prairie-chickens  during  the  day,  we  supped 


SPECIMEN  SETTLERS. 


39 


luxuriously.  Our  mess-kit  was  rather  a primitive  affair, 
not  much  to  speak  of,  and  our  cook  quite  a worthless 
fellow,  as  it  turned  out;  but  L.  developed  a talent 
that  way  very  surprising,  and  so  wre  got  along  comforta- 
bly. This  Segrist  himself  was  quite  a character  in  his 
way.  A Pennsylvania  Dutchman  by  birth,  he  w’as  bred 
in  Indiana,  but  emigrated  to  Fancy  Creek  during  the 
Kansas  troubles,  to  help  save  the  territory  to  freedom. 
Squatting  on  a quarter-section  there,  he  first  built  him- 
self a log-cabin,  and  then  subsequently  enlarged  and 
improved  this  by  a “ lean-to ; ” now  he  had  just  com- 
pleted a good  two-story  stone  house,  of  magnesian  lime- 
stone, and  aspired  to  luxury.  He  had  flocks  and  herds 
well  about  him  ; he  was  a hearty,  cheery  man,  not  afraid 
of  hard  work,  nor  a spice  of  danger;  and,  it  was  plain 
to  be  seen,  would  soon  be  a rich  man,  if  he  kept  on. 
Of  course,  he  was  a Republican  in  politics,  and  took  the 
St.  Louis  Westliche  Post. 

On  Wild-Cat  Creek,  the  first  day  out  from  Fort 
Riley,  we  struck  a Mr.  Silvers,  who  proved  to  be  a 
minister  of  the  United  Brethren.  He  had  a half-section 
of  land  there,  and  his  son-in-law  as  much  more  just 
adjoining.  They  were  both  living  in  rude  shanties  put 
up  by  themselves,  but  seemed  happy  and  contented. 
During  the  war,  he  had  sent  one  son  to  the  army,  and 
when  Price  invaded  Kansas  he  himself  shouldered  his 
Plains  rifle,  and  marched  to  the  defence  of  Lawrence 
and  Topeka.  When  at  home,  he  worked  upon  his  farm  ; 
but  he  had  a frontier  circuit,  with  preaching  places  a 
hundred  miles  in  every  direction,  which  took  him  away 
most  of  the  time.  He  seemed  to  be  a veritable  mission- 
ary,  looking  up  the  lost  sheep  scattered  along  the  Border, 
and  we  bade  him  God-speed.  His  “gude  wife”  gave 
us  a bowl  of  buttermilk  fresh  from  the  churn,  and  we 
paid  her  in  the  latest  eastern  newspapers. 


CHAPTER  III. 


UP  THE  PLATTE  TO  DENVER, 


HE  Union  Pacific  Railroad  had  then  just  reached 


Fort  Kearney  from  Omaha,  and  was  the  sensation  of 
the  hour.  With  a large  force  of  men,  it  was  being  pushed 
rapidly  up  the  north  bank  of  the  Platte ; but  as  our  road 
lay  up  the  south  bank,  we  did  not  cross  to  see  it.  There 
was  little  to  prevent  its  rapid  progress  of  a mile  and  even 
two  miles  per  day,  as  the  Platte  valley  ascends  gradually, 
and  for  railroad  purposes  is  almost  everywhere  practically  a 
level.  We  now  dismissed  our  ambulance  and  escort,  with 
instructions  to  return  to  Fort  Riley,  and  transferred  our- 
selves, bag  and  baggage,  to  Holliday’s  Overland  Stages, 
which  here  connected  with  the  railroad. 

This  stage-line  was  long  one  of  the  first  enterprises  of 
America,  and,  as  the  forerunner  of  the  railroad  did  its 
part  well  in  carrying  civilization  across  the  continent. 
It  was  then  owned  and  controlled  by  Mr.  Ben  Holliday, 
an  enterprising  Missourian,  but  then  living  in  New 
York.  It  had  originally  fallen  into  his  hands  for  debt, 
but  he  had  since  greatly  enlarged  and  extended  it.  It 
then  ran  from  Fort  Kearney  to  Denver,  with  branches  to 
the  mining  regions  ; thence  across  the  Rocky  Mountains 
to  Salt  Lake;  * thence  through  Idaho  to  the  Columbia, 
with  branches  through  Montana  ; extending  in  all,  nearly 
three  thousand  miles,  employing  six  thousand  horses  and 

* The  line  thence  to  California  was  run  by  Wells,  Fargo  & Co. 


OVERLAID  STAGES — 


41 


mules,  and  more  than  three  hundred  coaches.  lie  paid 
his  general  superintendent  ten  thousand  dollars  per  year ; 
his  division  superintendents,  half  that ; and  lesser 
employees  proportionately.  His  hay,  and  grain,  and  pro- 
visions, he  had  to  haul  hundreds  of  miles,  distributing 
them  along  the  route,  and  his  fuel  frequently  one  hundred 
and  fifty7'.  To  offset  all  this,  he  carried  the  U.  S.  Mail, 
daily  each  way,  and  for  this  service  alone  received  over 
half  a million  of  dollars  per  year  from  the  government. 
In  addition,  his  passenger  fares  from  Fort  Kearney  to 
Denver  were  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  ; to  Salt  Lake, 
three  hundred ; to  Nevada,  four  hundred  and  fifty ; to 
California,  five  hundred ; and  to  Idaho  and  Montana, 
about  the  same. 

We  found  his  stages  to  be  our  well-known  Concord 
coaches,  and  they  quite  surpassed  our  expectations,  both 
as  to  comfort  and  to  speed.  They  were  intended  for 
nine  inside — three  seats  full — and  as  many  more  out- 
side, as  could  be  induced  to  get  on.  Their  teams  were 
either  four  or  six  horses,  depending  on  the  roads,  and 
the  distance  between  stations.  The  animals  them- 
selves were  our  standing  wonder ; no  broken-down 
nags,  or  half-starved  Rosinantes,  like  our  typical  stage- 
horses  east;  but,  as  a rule,  they  were  fat  and  fiery, 
and  would  'have  done  credit  to  a horseman  anywhere. 
Wiry,  gamey,  as  if  feeling  their  oats  thoroughly, 
they  often  went  off  from  the  stations  at  a full  gallop ; 
at  the  end  of  a mile  or  so  would  settle  down  to  a 
square  steady  trot ; and  this  they  would  usually  keep  up 
right  along  until  they  reached  the  next  station.  These 
“ stations  ” varied  from  ten  to  twelve  miles  apart, 
depending  on  water  and  grass,  and  consisted  of  the 
rudest  kind  of  a shanty  or  sod-house  ordinarily.  Here 
we  would  find  another  team,  ready  harnessed,  prancing 


42 


STAGE-DRIVERS  AS  A CLASS — 


to  be  gone,  and  in  fifteen  minutes  or  so  would  be  off  on 
the  road  again.  Halts  were  made  twice  a day  for  meals, 
forty  minutes  each,  and  with  this  exception  we  kept 
bowling  ahead  ni^ht  and  dav.  Our  meals  were  fair  for 
the  region  ; generally  coffee,  beef-steak  or  bacon,  potatoes, 
and  saleratus-biscuit  hot ; but  the  prices  — one  dollar 
and  one  dollar  and  a half  per  meal — seemed  extortionate. 
In  this  way,  we  often  made  ten  and  twelve  miles  per 
hour,  while  on  the  road  ; and  seldom  drove  less  than  one 
hundred,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty-ffve  miles,  per  day 
and  night. 

We  talked  a good  deal,  or  essayed  to,  with  the  drivers ; 
but  as  a rule,  they  were  a taciturn  species.  Off  the  box 
they  were  loquacious  enough ; but  when  mounted,  with 
four  or  six  in  hand,  they  either  thought  it  unprofessional 
to  talk,  or  else  were  absorbed  too  much  in  their  business. 
I remarked  this  to  a Division  Superintendent,  when  he 
replied,  “ You  bet ! A talking  driver  is  like  a whistling 
girl  or  crowing  hen,  always  of  no  account ! ” They 
each  had  their  drive  of  fifty  or  sixty  miles,  up  one  day, 
and  back  the  next,  and  to  the  people  along  the  route 
were  important  personages.  Many  we  found  were  from 
Hew  Hampshire,  and  Western  Hew  York.  Usually 
they  were  a roving  class;  but  when  they  once  settled 
down  to  stage-driving,  they  seldom  left  it  permanently. 
There  seemed  to  be  a fascination  about  the  life,  hard  as 
it  was,  and  we  found  many  of  these  Jehus  who  had  been 
driving  for  years,  and  never  expected  to  quit  it.  They 
were  fond  of  tobacco  and  whiskey,  and  rolled  out  pon- 
derous oaths,  when  things  did  not  go  to  suit  them  ; but 
as  a rule,  they  were  hearty  and  generous  fellows,  and 
were  doing  the  world  good  service.  As  bearers  of  the 
U.  S.  Mail,  they  felt  themselves  kings  of  the  road,  and 
were  seldom  loth  to  show  it.  “ Clar  the  road  ! Git  out 


FELLOW-PASSENGERS 


43 


of  the  way  thar  with  your  bull-teams ! ” was  a frequent 
salutation,  when  overtaking  or  meeting  wagon-trains; 
and  if  this  was  not  complied  with  quickly,  they  made 
little  hesitation  in  running  into  the  oxen,  and  swearing 
till  all  was  blue.  I have  a vivid  recollection  of  one 
instance  of  the  kind,  when  we  ran  into  an  ox-team,  and 
the  justly  exasperated  teamster  sent  us  his  compliments, 
in  the  shape  of  a bullet  whizzing  through  the  air,  as  we 
whirled  away  again. 

In  fellow-passengers  we  were  remarkably  lucky. 
Col.  B.  was  a good  specimen  of  the  ups  and  downs  of  an 
average  Westerner.  He  was  a graduate  of  West  Point, 
or  at  least  had  been  a cadet  there,  and  afterwards  served 
some  years  in  the  Regular  Army.  Retiring  to  civil  life, 
he  subsequently  was  elected  Lieut.-Governor  of  a western 
state,  and  afterwards  became  Governor — the  incumbent 
dying.  When  the  war  broke  out,  he  turned  up  as 
Colonel  of  a volunteer  regiment ; and  now,  like  the 
Irishman,  having  been  “ promoted  backward,”  was  vege- 
tating as  sutler  at  a post  on  the  Plains.  He  was  a man 
of  rare  wit  and  intelligence,  of  infinite  jest  and  humor 
(his  own  worst  enemy),  and  we  were  sorry  to  part  when 
he  reached  his  post.  Then  we  had  a Swiss  artist,  M. 
Buchser,  sent  over  by  his  government  to  make  a grand 
painting  illustrative  of  our  late  war,  embracing  our  most 
famous  statesmen  and  generals,  for  the  Capitol  at  Berne. 
Having  a month  or  two  of  leisure,  he  was  spending  it 
wisely  in  making  a run  to  the  Plains  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  How  he  was  hurrying  on  to  join  Gen. 
Sherman  at  Julesburg,  whence  he  was  to  accompany  him 
and  his  brother,  the  Ohio  Senator,  on  a tour  of  inspec- 
tion to  Fort  Laramie,  Buford,  Denver,  and  then  east 
again  via  the  Arkansas.  He  was  a close  observer,  had 
travelled  much  on  both  continents,  and  was  very  chatty 


44 


OUTSIDE  ON  A STAGE-COACH — 


and  companionable,  speaking  English  like  a native.  lie 
sketched  constantly  en  route , making  “studies”  of  the 
Platte  valley  from  the  top  of  the  stage-coach,  and  when 
we  parted  at  Fort  McPherson,  it  was  with  the  mutual 
hope  of  meeting  again  at  Denver.  Next  we  had  a 
Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Illinois,  of  the  Methodist  per- 
suasion, en  route  to  Golden  City  and  the  Mountains,  in 
search  of  health,  and  to  look  after  certain  mining  inter- 
ests of  some  company  in  the  east.  Then  we  had  a 
banker  from  New  York,  of  copperhead  tendencies,  bound 
for  Idaho  City,  also  in  quest  of  mines  ; but  his  wife  was 
a staunch  Pepublican,  and  more  than  offset  his  political 
heresies.  We  had  others  besides,  merchants,  miners, 
telegraph-men,  etc.,  and  really  not  one  disagreeable 
person. 

As  to  the  weather,  we  found  that  intensely  hot  in 
the  middle  of  the  day  (it  being  the  last  of  August  and 
first  of  September),  but  the  mornings  and  evenings  were 
delightful,  and  the  nights  always  superb.  Most  of  the 
passengers  preferred  the  inside ; but  Dr.  M.  and  I 
chose  the  outside,  which  with  some  inconveniences  had 
its  advantages  after  all.  By  day  it  gave  us  a wider  view 
of  the  country;  and  at  night  we  used  to  give  our 
blankets  a “ shake  down”  on  the  flat  top  (first  borrowing 
an  armful  of  hay  from  some  station),  and  then  go  lux- 
uriously to  sleep.  At  first  when  we  tried  this,  not 
understanding  the  philosophy  of  the  situation,  we  came 
near  rolling  off  when  the  coach  would  pitch  into  a chuck- 
hole,  or  give  a lurch  from  heel  to  port;  but  we  soon 
learned  to  boom  ourselves  on,  with  a rope  or  strap 
from  railing  to  railing,  and  thus  managed  to  secure 
not  a little  of  “ tired  nature’s  sweet  restorer,  balmy 
sleep,”  while  our  fellow-passengers  down  below  (nine 
inside),  packed  like  sardines  in  a box,  got  seldom  a wink. 


A WIND  STORM — • 


45 


The  most  of  the  time,  the  moon  was  at  the  full  or  about 
that,  and  superb  in  her  unveiled  glory.  The  sky  was 
packed  with  a myriad  of  stars,  far  beyond  what  wTe  ever 
see  east.  The  air,  pure  and  dry,  free  from  both  dew 
and  frost,  was  a perpetual  tonic  to  lungs  and  brain. 
Every  hundred  miles  or  so  we  stopped  over  a day  or  two 
to  inspect  some  Military  Post,  and  so  got  rested.  The 
scenery  from  day  to  day  was  ever  fresh  and  changing, 
abounding  in  new  sensations.  And,  in  short,  in  all  my 
experiences  of  life,  I have  few  pleasanter  recollections 
than  in  thus  staging  it  outside,  across  the  Plains,  and  up 
the  Platte  to  Denver.  One  night,  however,  a wind- 
storm from  the  summit  of  the  Pocky  Mountains  struck 
us,  and  for  hours  raged  furiously — raw  and  gusty,  pierc- 
ing to  the  bone.  But  at  midnight  we  rolled  into  Fort 
Morgan,  and  halting  in  its  hospitable  quarters,  waited 
until  the  wind  blew  itself  out. 

The  sunsets  now  and  then  were  magnificent,  and  one 
particularly  beyond  Fort  Sedgwick  or  Julesburg  deserves 
further  mention.  We  were  rolling  rapidly  along,  when 
the  sun  w*ent  down  behind  a cloud,  that  formed  the  huge 
segment  of  a circle  on  the  horizon,  and  from  around  and 
behind  this  his  rays  came  flashing  forth  with  a beauty — 
a glory  and  a gorgeousness — that  we  had  never  seen 
equalled.  Heavy,  sombre  clouds  hung  about  the  west, 
while  over  head  and  off  to  the  east  they  Thinned  out  into 
fleecy  mottled  masses  almost  invisible,  until  his  reflected 
rays  illuminated  them.  Up  among  these,  across  the 
whole  dome  of  the  heavens,  the  colors  flamed  and  went, 
as  tremulous  as  a maiden’s  blushes — now  crimson  and 
gold,  then  purple  and  violet,  and  now  again  a dreamy, 
hazy,  half-pink,  half  rosy  light,  that  baffles  description. 
I had  seen  gorgeous  sunsets  elsewhere — on  the  Hudson, 
among  the  Alleghanies,  by  the  sea — but  never  any  so 


46 


MAGNIFICENT  SUNSETS. 


full  of  glory  and  majesty,  and  sublimity  as  this.  The 
fleecy  masses  overhead  seemed  to  hang  in  curtains,  one 
behind  the  other,  like  the  top  scenes  at  a theatre,  and 
the  shifting  light  playing  about  among  them  added  to 
the  illusion.  Nature  seemed  here  to  enrobe  the  heavens 
in  her  most  magnificent  and  gorgeous  tapestry,  as  if 
trying  to  show  what  glorious  fabrics  her  noiseless  looms 
could  weave ; and  over  all  brooded  that  mysterious 
silence  of  the  Plains,  that  seems  like  the  hush  of  eternity. 
It  must  have  been  some  such  scene,  that  flamed  through 
the  poet’s  brain  when  he  wrote : 

“ All  the  west  was  washed  with  fire ; 

Great  clouds  were  standing  round  the  setting  sun. 

Like  gaping  caves,  fantastic  pinnacles, 

Citadels  throbbing  in  their  own  fierce  light, 

Tall  spires  that  came  and  went  like  spires  of  flame. 

Cliffs  quivering  with  fire-snow,  and  peaks 
Of  piled  gorgeousness,  and  rocks  of  fire 
A-tilt  and  poised,  bare  beaches,  crimson  seas.” 

A singular  part  of  it  all  was,  that  passengers  in  the 
next  stage-coach,  a hundred  miles  east,  were  struck  with 
the  same  magnificent  sunset,  and  followed  us  into  Denver 
with  similar  accounts  of  its  grandeur  and  sublimity,  at 
the  point  where  they  had  been. 


J 


CHAPTER  IV. 


up  the  tlatte  to  DENVER  ( Concluded ). 

THE  Platte  Valley  itself  is  a great  furrow  or  groove 
in  the  heart  of  the  Plains  proper,  extending  substan- 
tially due  west  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
On  the  line  of  our  tier  of  northern  cities,  and  so  in  the 
track  of  northern  ideas  across  the  continent,  it  is  as  if 
nature  intended  it  for  a great  natural  highway,  and  already 
it  had  come  to  its  fulfilment.  Its  early  selection  by  our 
army  of  emigrants  to  Colorado,  Utah,  California,  etc., 
was  because  of  its  supplying  the  three  great  desiderata  of 
wood,  water  and  grass,  better  than  any  other  route  ; and 
its  easy  grades,  as  well  as  accumulating  trade  and  travel, 
made  it  the  predestined  pathway  of  the  Pacific  Railroad. 
It  varies  in  breadth  from  fiv$  to  ten  miles,  and  is  bounded 
on  either  side  by  abrupt  bluffs  two  or  three  hundred  feet 
high,  whence  outstretch  the  Plains  proper.  Extending 
from  the  foot  of  these  bluffs,  for  a mile  or  more  usually,  is 
a level  plateau  or  “ bench  ” (in  Plains  parlance),  composed 
of  sand  and  gravel,  and  worthless  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses from  want  of  moisture.  To  be  sure,  during  the 
spring  a meagre  herbage  is  sustained  here,  but  long 
before  summer  ends  everything  green  parches  and  withers 
up.  Then  come  the  bottoms  proper,  on  either  side  of 
the  river,  of  rich  loam  and  clay,  which  produce  grass  in 
goodly  quantities  ail  summer,  and  we  saw  no  reason  why 
they  should  not  also  grow  most  cereals  and  vegetables. 


48 


THE  PLATTE  ITSELF 


Perhaps  it  is  too  far  north  for  Indian  corn  ; but  wheat, 
barley,  oats  and  rye  ought  to  flourish  there,  except  in 
localities  where  the  soil  may  be  too  strongly  impreg- 
nated with  alkali  or  soda.  Their  natural  adaptation,  how- 
ever, is  for  grass,  and  I apprehend  we  shall  soon  have  our 
flocks  and  herds,  by  the  acre,  feeding  all  up  and  down 
by  the  Platte.  When  you  reach  the  North  Platte  the 
valley  of  course  subdivides,  and  you  continue  on  up  the 
valley  of  the  South  Platte  to  Denver.  The  fertile  and 
cultivable  bottoms,  of  course,  narrow  as  you  ad- 
vance ; nevertheless,  they  maintain  a considerable  breadth 
nearly  everywhere,  despite  encroaching  bluffs,  and 
around  and  beyond  Denver  are  made  highly  productive 
by  occasional  irrigation  as  needed.  Utilize  the  unfailing 
waters  of  the  Platte  by  windmills  or  otherwise,  as  they 
do  their  streams  in  Italy,  Egypt  and  China,  and  the 
Platte  valley  throughout  its  length  will  yet  become  a 
garden. 

The  Platte  itself  to  the  eye  is  a broad  and  lusty 
stream,  and  in  places,  as  near  Fort  McPherson,  expands 
into  a sea  of  islands,  most  refreshing  to  behold  after  days 
of  dusty  travel.  Put  while  in  volume  sufficient  for  a 
first-class  river,  its  banks  are  so  shifting  and  its  sand-bars 
so  numerous  and  variable,  that  it  has  always  proved  prac- 
tically unnavigable,  notwithstanding  our  western  rivers 
swarm  with  stern- wheelers,  many  of  which  it  is  said  only 
require  a respectable  ditch  or  half  decent  dew.  Un- 
bridged and  without  ferries,  we  found  it  crossed  only  at 
a few  well-defined  fords,  and  even  these  were  so  cursed 
by  quicksands,  that  trains  in  crossing  stood  in  great  danger 
of  bringing  up  at  Jeddo  or  Pekin.  Its  waters  were  con- 
sidered healthy  and  sweet,  notwithstanding  a trace  of  alka- 
li, and  with  all  its  shortcomings,  it  seemed  nevertheless  a 
perfect  God-send  to  that  particular  region.  Its  banks  and 


COSTLY  SUPPLIES 


49 


islands  were  usually  fringed  with  cottonwoods  and  pop- 
lars, and  furnished  almost  the  only  supply  of  fuel  to  pass- 
ing emigrants  and  travellers.  The  settled  residents  there, 
however,  the  station-keepers  and  ranchmen,  depended 
more  on  the  stunted  cedars,  that  abounded  generally  in  all 
the  ravines  and  canons,  with  which  the  side-bluffs  of  the 
valley  are  more  or  less  seamed.  Here  also  they  procured 
the  most  of  their  lumber,  and  from  here  supplied  thou- 
sands of  ties  for  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad.  We  were 
surprised  to  find  these  cedars  so  abundant  in  the  canons, 
where  nothing  tree-like  was  visible  until  you  entered. 
Then  we  found  the  whole  bottom  and  sides  frequently 
lined  with  them  to  the  top ; but  there  they  abruptly 
ceased,  as  if  close  shaven  by  the  winds,  which  in  certain 
months  sweep  over  the  Plains  mercilessly. 

In  both  wood  and  lumber,  however,  we  found  the 
Platte  valley  sadly  lacking,  and  the  whole  Plains  country 
generally.  Good  peat  had  been  found  at  Julesburg,  and 
bituminous  coal  was  reported  near  Fort  Morgan  ; but 
our  posts  were  depending  for  both  fuel  and  lumber  mainly 
on  the  Platte  and  its  side  ^canons.  At  Fort  Sedgwick, 
near  Julesburg,  they  had  been  hauling  wrood  nearly  a 
hundred  miles,  at  a cost  to  the  government  of  over  a 
hundred  dollars  per  cord,  there  being  none  nearer  or 
cheaper.  Lumber  cost  one  hundred  and  seventeen  dol- 
lars per  thousand,  and  shingles  fifteen  dollars  per  thou- 
sand, and  were  held  cheap  at  that.  The  year  before, 
lumber  had  cost  two  hundred  and  five  dollars  per  thousand, 
and  shingles  in  proportion.  Grain  (corn  and  oats)  was 
wagoned  from  the  Missouri,  and  cost  the  government,  put 
down  at  Sedgwick,  about  seven  dollars  per  bushel.  Ilay 
was  cut  in  the  vicinity,  and  cost  thirty-four  dollars  per 
ton.  Recently  they  had  made  a contract  with  shrewd 
operators  m Denver,  for  lumber  at  ninety  dollars  per 
3 


50 


GOOD  GRAZING  REGION  — 


thousand,  and  wood  at  forty-six  dollars  per  cord,  both  to 
come  from  the  Rocky  Mountains,  over  two  hundred  miles 
away ; but  the  contractors  availed  themselves  of  cheap 
freights  by  eastward-bound  wagon-trains,  otherwise 
returning  empty.  At  Julesburg,  we  were  told,  there  was 
not  a tree  even  for  fifty  miles ; formerly  there  had  been  a 
scrubby  cottonwood,  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Platte  there 
— a lone  star  in  solitary  splendor — which  was  regularly 
shown  to  tourists  as  one  of  its  lions.  But  this  had 
recently  fallen  down  and  floated  away,  and  now  Julesburg 
mourned  its  loss  as  “ the  last  of  the  Mohicans.”  There 
was  some  talk  of  erecting  a monument  to  its  memory  ; 
but  even  this  would  have  to  be  of  “ adobe/’  as  stone  was 
equally  a rarity  there. 

Down  in  the  valley  proper,  the  field  of  vision  is  lim- 
ited by  the  side  bluffs,  and  you  see  but  comparatively 
little  of  the  country  generally.  But  ascend  the  bluffs  on 
either  side,  and  the  vast  ocean  of  the  Plains  stretches 
boundlessly  before  you — not  flat,  but  billowy  with  swells 
and  ridges,  an  illimitable  plateau,  with  only  here  and 
there  a solitary  “ butte,”  sharply  defined  against  the  clear 
sky.  In  spring  this  whole  vast  extent  is  a wilderness  of 
verdure  and  flowers ; but  the  summer  skies,  untempered 
by  rain,  as  elsewhere  said,  scorch  and  burn  the  ground  to 
cinders,  and  long  before  autumn  comes  all  vegetation 
there  practically  perishes.  Even  the  hardy  buffalo-grass 
becomes  brown  and  tinder-like,  and  the  only  grazing  there 
is  in  the  canons  and  valleys.  Nevertheless  our  Plains  have 
hitherto  sustained  buffalo  by  the  million,  and  do  it  still, 
although  these  shaggy  monsters  have  of  late  mostly 
disappeared  from  the  Platte  region.  We  did  not  see  one 
in  our  entire  trip  to  Denver;  but  a friend,  who  came 
through  a month  or  so  later,  over  the  Smoky  Hill  route, 
where  there  was  less  travel,  reported  buffalo  there  yet  by 


A RIDE  AFTER  ANTELOPE 


51 


the  horizon  full — the  whole  country  being  substantially 
black  with  them.  The  short  and  sweet  buffalo-grass  is 
indigenous  through  all  this  region,  and  is  said  to  be 
nutritious,  even  when  dried  up,  the  year  round.  What  a 
magnificent  range  for  stock  these  great  Plains  will  yet 
afford,  when  the  country  becomes  more  thickly  settled  up  ! 
Much  of  this  region  is  marked  on  the  old  maps  as  the 
“ Great  American  Desert ; ” but  from  all  we  saw  and 
heard  I doubt  not,  as  a whole,  it  will  yet  become  the 
great  stock-raising  and  dairy  region  of  the  Republic, 
whence  we  shall  export  beef  and  mutton,  leather  and 
wool,  in  exchange  for  cloth  and  steel.* 

We  had  several  fine  rides- with  brother-officers  among 
the  canons  and  bluffs  while  stopping  over  to  inspect  our 
military  posts  en  route , and  a grand  gallop  one  bright 
September  morning  over  the  Plains  and  far  away  after 
antelope.  In  the  canons  and  along  the  bluffs  we  started 
plenty  of  jack-rabbits ; but  the  antelope  were  shy  and 
apparently  always  on  the  run,  so  much  so  we  could  never 
get  within  shot  of  them.  We  formed  a long  line  across 
the  country,  and  as  we  swept  forward  started  two  or 
three  small  herds ; but  tliej*  were  all  too  fleet  for  Uncle 
Sam’s  coursers.  Subsequently  we  halted,  and  lying 
down  tried  the  old  hunter’s  trick  of  enticing  them  with 
a handkerchief  on  a ramrod,  with  our  rifles  ready  to 
blaze  away  as  they  drew  near  ; but  they  were  too  cun- 
ning to  be  caught  by  any  such  rascally  flag-of- truce 
arrangement,  and  it  seemed  a shame  to  attempt  it.  The 
ride  itself,  however,  was  a great  satisfaction,  full  of 
excitement,  exhilaration,  enjoyment.  The  sky  was  a 
perfect  sapphire,  without  cloud  or  haze.  The  clear 
atmosphere  braced  one’s  nerves  like  wine,  and  revealed 
distant  objects  with  a pre-Paphaelite  distinctness.  A 
* See  Appendix. 


52 


THE  BUFFALO  AS  AN  ENGINEER 


pyramid-like  “ butte,”  off  to  the  southwest,  seemed  near 
at  hand,  though  more  than  twenty  miles  away.  The 
ground  was  baked  hard,  with  a thin  covering  of  dry-grass,  . 
except  in  the  occasional  buffalo-wallows ; and  altogether 
our  horses  seemed  to  enjoy  the  gallop  quite  as  much  as 
we  did  ourselves.  There  was  just  a spice  of  danger  in 
the  ride,  too,  as  Indians  were  reported  prowling  about,  but 
none  appeared.  We  left  the  Platte  with  its  bluffs  and 
canons  behind  us,  and  out  into  the  boundless  Plains  we 
rode,  on  and  on,  and  only  drew  rein  when  we  discovered 
that  we  had  lost  our  reckoning,  and  were  without  a com- 
pass. The  person  charged  with  providing  this  had 
forgotten  it,  and  suddenly  we  found  ourselves  at  sea, 
without  guide  or  headland.  Fortunately  we  had  the 
well-worn  buffalo- trails,  that  there  run  almost  due  north 
and  south — the  old  paths  over  which  they  formerly  went 
to  and  from  the  Platte  for  water — and  following  up  one 
of  these,  after  an  hour  or  two,  we  found  ourselves  in 
sight  of  the  river  again.  These  “ trails  ” are  no  wider 
than  ordinary  cow-paths,  but  they  are  worn  deep  into  the 
soil,  and  show  by  their  great  number  and  depth  what 
countless  herds  of  buffalo  must  have  roamed  here  in  other 
days.  They  are  a sure  guide  up  and  down  the  bluffs, 
many  of  which  are  so  precipitous  that  safe  ascent  or 
descent  elsewhere  seems  impossible.  But  the  buffalo,  by 
a wise  instinct,  seems  to  have  hit  just  the  right  point,  and 
deserves  credit  for  such  skillful  engineering. 

The  population  of  the  Platte  Valley  was  yet  mostly 
in  futuro.  The  little  in  esse  was  grouped  sparsely 
around  the  several  Military  posts — Forts  Kearney, 
McPherson,  Sedgwick  and  Morgan — the  intervening 
stage-stations,  and  at  Julesburg.  The  largest  hamlet, 
perhaps  five  hundred  inhabitants  or  so,  was  near  Fort 
Kearney,  having  grown  up  on  the  outskirts  of  that  post, 


RANCHMEN  AND  THEIR  HOMES 


53 


and  bearing  the  same  name.  Julesburg  consisted  of  a 
blacksmith-shop,  a grocery,  a billiard-saloon,  and  a half- 
dozen  houses  all  of  adobe.  It  was  on  the  South  Platte,  at 
the  point  of  crossing  for  the  Utah  and  Montana  travel, 
which  here  bore  away  northwest  for  Bridgets  Pass,  and 
so  did  a considerable  business  already  in  canned-fruits 
and  tangle-foot  whiskey.  A year  afterwards,  it  was  the 
terminus  for  awhile  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad, 
went  up  speedily  to  two  or  three  thousand  inhabitants, 
and  figured  largely  in  eastern  journals.  But,  presently, 
with  the  ongoing  of  the  railroad,  its  importance  ceased, 
and  its  inhabitants, 

“ Folded  tlieir  tents  like  the  Arabs, 

And  silently  stole  away.” 

The  stage-stations  usually  had  a ranch  or  two  adjoining, 
though  these  grew  more  infrequent,  as  we  got  farther 
west.  These  wTere  only  rude  huts  of  sod  or  adobe, 
with  dirt-roofs,  divided  into  two  apartments — one  for 
sleeping  purposes,  and  the  other  for  a cross-roads  grocery. 
The  stock  on  hand  usually  consisted  largely  of  tobacco, 
canned-fruits  and  vegetables,  and  the  worst  varieties  of 
“ needle-gun”  whiskey,  warranted  to  kill  a mile  away. 
Hay  and  wood  were  also  kept  on  hand,  for  sale  to  passing 
trains,  and  many  ranchmen  managed  thus  to  pick  up 
considerable  money  in  the  course  of  the  year.  Generally 
two  men  occupied  a ranch  thus  together,  though  some- 
times squaws  were  found  serving  as  “brevet”-wives.  Much 
of  their  time  was  spent,  especially  at  night,  in  playing 
“poker,”  “old-sledge,”  “seven- up,”  etc.  for  the  want 
of  something  else  to  do  ; and  a newspaper,  a Congressional 
speech,  or  even  a Pub.  Doc.,  was  always  welcome. 
Farther  west,  the  stage-stations  and  ranch-huts  were 
built  more  substantially,  and  often  were  regularly 


54: 


WAGON-TRAINS  AND  TEAMSTERS 


bastion ed  and  loop-holed  for  a siege.  One  of  the  most 
notable  of  these  was  Fort  Wicked,  about  half-way  between 
Julesburg  and  Denver.  It  was  built  of  sods  and  adobe, 
with  a thick  wall,  of  the  same  on  three  sides,  and  was 
really  an  arrow  and  bullet-proof  block-house.  A year  or 
so  before,  it  had  been  attacked  by  a party  of  Cheyennes 
and  Arrapahoes  ; but  the  owner  and  his  men  showed 
fight — killed  several  of  the  red-skins,  and  put  the  rest 
to  flight — whereupon  some  one  christened  the  place 
“ Fort  Wicked,”  and  the  name  stuck. 

Wagon-trains  going  west  or  returning  east,  we  met 
frequently,  but  not  to  the  extent  we  anticipated.  They 
usually  consisted  of  from  ten  to  twenty  wagons  each, 
with  from  eight  to  twelve  pairs  of  mules  or  yokes  of 
oxen  to  each  wagon.  Going  up  from  the  “ Diver,”  as 
the  Missouri  was  always  called,  these  trains  being  loaded 
all  had  their  full  complement  of  wagon-masters,  team- 
sters, cooks,  etc.  But,  returning  empty,  several  wagons 
were  often  coupled  together — the  surplus  employees  stop- 
ping over  in  the  mines.  By  day,  these  trains  stretched 
their  huge  length  along,  the  great  white-sheeted  wagons 
or  “ prairie-schooners”  carrying  each  from  ten  to  twelve 
thousand  pounds ; but,  at  night,  their  wagons  were 
formed  into  a u corral,”  with  the  animals  inside  to  pre- 
vent the  Indians  stampeding  them,  and  the  picturesque 
effect  of  such  encampments  was  always  pleasing.  Even 
here  on  the  Plains,  about  the  last  place  we  would  sup- 
pose, the  inherent  aristocracy  of  human  nature  cropped 
out  distinctly.  The  lords  of  the  lash  par  excellence  were 
the  stage-drivers.  The  next  most  important,  the  horse 
or  mule  teamsters;  and  the  lowest,  the  “bull-drivers.” 
The  horse  or  mule  teams  made  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
miles  per  day;  the  ox-trains  eight  to  ten.  For  real 
vagabondage,  pure  and  simple,  life  with  one  of  these 


PLAINS  INDIANS. 


SIOUX  INDIANS 


55 


trains  seemed  hard  to  beat.  An  Arab  of  the  desert,  or  a 
Gaucho  of  the  pampas,  could  ask  for  nothing  more 
nomadic.  And  if  anybody  is  sick  of  Sybaris,  and  anx- 
ious to  get  away  from  all  trace  of  civilization,  here  is  the 
place  for  him.  It  seemed  to  be  going  down  to  the  bed- 
rock in  the  social  scale,  and  afforded  a splendid  oppor- 
tunity to  study  first  principles.  A school-friend  of  mine, 
a man  of  fine  culture,  tried  it  formerly,  and  his  experi- 
ences were  racy  and  rare.  Subsequently,  as  miner,  land 
agent,  speculator,  and  lawyer,  at  Pike’s  Peak  and 
Denver,  he  made  two  or  three  fortunes  and  lost  them  ; 
then  emigrated  to  San  Francisco,  where  he  made  another 
as  army  contractor  ; and  then  wisely  forsook  the  fickle 
goddess,  and  settled  in  Hew  York. 

Humors  of  impending  troubles  with  the  Indians 
thickened  as  we  advanced.  The  settlers  and  stage-people 
said  the  Indians  appeared  but  little  on  the  road,  which  was 
a sure  sign  that  a storm  was  brewing.  Further  they 
said  the  tribes  had  had  a grand  pow-wow  recently 
on  the  Smoky  Hill  and  the  Republican,  in  which  they  had 
agreed  to  bury  the  liatcnet  and  make  common  cause 
against  the  pale-faces.  Subsequently,  later  in  the 
autumn,  they  did  attack  some  stations  on  the  Smoky 
Hill  route,  and  a stage  or  two  on  the  Platte  route  ; but 
we  reached  Denver  unmolested.  East  of  Julesburg,  at 
Baker’s  ranch,  we  passed  an  encampment  of  Sioux,  per- 
haps two  or  three  hundred,  papooses  and  all,  in  cone- 
shaped  wigwams,  evidently  the  original  of  our  army 
“ Sibley.”  While  changing  horses,  we  strolled  into 
several  of  their  wigwams,  and  found  them  full  of  braves, 
squat  upon  their  hams,  intently  engaged  in  playing  cards. 
In  Indian  pantomime,  they  warmly  invited  us  to  partici- 
pate, but  we  were  obliged  to  decline  the  distinguished 
honor.  The  squaws  were  mostly  at  work  on  moccasins 


56 


4 FRIGHTENED  GERMAN 


or  blankets,  and  their  tawny  little  papooses  (stark  naked, 
except  a breech-cloth)  were  either  practising  with  bows 
and  arrows,  or  u lying  around  loose.”  The  entire  party 
seemed  utterly  poverty-stricken,  even  to  their  ponies  and 
dogs,  and,  generally,  about  as  wretched  as  human  beings 
could  well  be.  Their  main  provisions  seemed  to  be 
rusty  army-rations,  which  had  recently  been  issued  to 
them  at  one  of  our  neighboring  posts,  and  without  these 
they  would  have  been  practically  destitute.  Dirty, 
squalid,  indecent,  and  half-starving,  they  seemed  but 
little  removed  above  the  brute  creation,  and  gave  a terri- 
ble shock  to  all  preconceived  ideas  about  the  “ Noble 
Red  Man,”  if  we  had  any.  They  were  the  first  real 
savages — pure  and  simple — we  had  met,  and  our  poetry 
and  romance,  born  of  Cooper  and  Longfellow,  shivered 
at  the  spectacle.  Some  miles  farther  on,  we  encountered 
two  young  “bucks,”  gaily  attired  in  blankets,  beads, 
feathers,  etc,,  jogging  along  on  their  ponies  to  the  camp 
at  Baker’s.  They  had  given  a big  scare  to  a poor  Ger- 
man we  overtook — a blacksmith,  travelling  alone  from 
station  to  station,  in  a light  two-mule  buggy,  to  shoe  the 
Company’s  horses.  The  appearance  of  our  coach,  how- 
ever, made  him  feel  his  scalp  more  secure,,  and  falling  in 
behind  he  followed  us  up  for  miles,  singing  at  the  top  of 
his  voice  “ Annie,  dear  Annie  of  the  vale ! ” Our  stage 
was  full  inside  and  out,  and  we  were  all  well-armed — in 
fact,  fairly  bristled  with  repeating-rifles  and  revolvers — 
and  had  we  been  attacked  no  doubt  would  have  given  a 
good  account  of  ourselves.  Our  experiences  up  to 
Denver,  however,  inclined  us  to  be  somewhat  skeptical  on 
the  Indian  question,  and  our  subsequent  observations  did 
not  greatly  change  this.  The  whole  region,  indeed,  seemed 
to  be  over-sensitive  on  the  subject.  The  air  was  every- 
where thick  with  rumors,  that  one  by  one  disappeared  as 


INDIAN  RUMORS. 


57 


we  advanced,  and  we  hardly  knew  which  to  wonder  at 
the  more — the  veracity  or  credulity  of  the  Plains.  In  fact, 
that  prince  of  romancers,  Baron  Munchausen,  seemed  to 
preside  over  the  country,  or  the  people  to  be  his  lineal 
descendants,  almost  everywhere. 

3* 


CHAPTER  Y. 


DENVER  AND  THE  MINES. 


WE  reached  Denver  Sept.  5th,  and  remained  there 
several  days.  Approaching  by  the  South  Platte, 
you  catch  sight  of  the  town  a mile  or  two  away,  when 
crossing  a “divide,”  and  are  surprised  at  its  size  and 
importance.  Ten  years  before,  there  was  not  an  inhabit- 
ant there ; but  now  she  claimed  seven  thousand  or  more, 
and  boasted  with  reason,  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  houses 
erected  that  year.  Moreover,  the  new  buildings  were 
chiefly  of  brick  or  stone,  while  the  old  ones  were  log  or 
frame.  At  the  junction  of  the  South  Platte  and  Cherry 
Creek  her  streets  are  well-laid  out,  mostly  at  right-angles, 
and  for  suburbs  she  has  the  boundless  Plains.  Appa- 
rently on  a plateau,  she  is  nevertheless  really  a mountain 
city ; for  at  St.  Louis  you  are  only  three  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea,  at  Omaha  nine  hundred  feet,  while  at 
Denver  you  have  got  up  imperceptibly  to  four  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  or  higher  than  our  average  Allegha- 
nies.  Her  climate  is  pure  and  dry,  without  rain  or  frost 
for  many  months  in  the  year — the  paradise  of  consump- 
tives— and  for  scenery,  she  has  the  ever-glorious  Rocky 
Mountains.  Already  she  had  six  churches,  two 
seminaries,  two  daily  papers,  a banking-house  with  a 
business  of  twelve  millions  a year,  a U.  S.  Mint,  a theatre, 
and  hotels  and  saloons  unnumbered,  though  these  last  it 
was  thought  were  diminishing.  Until  recently,  gambling- 


DENVER  CITY HER  BORDER  BISHOP 


59 


hells  had  also  flourished  openly  on  her  streets,  with  their 
usual  concomitants  of  drunkenness  and  affrays.  But 
some  months  before,  a Judge  Gale — backed  by  a strong 
public  opinion — had  taken  hold  of  the  gamblers,  and 
squelched  them  effectually.  Like  other  u peculiar  insti- 
tutions,” they  died  hard,  raising  large  sums  of  money  to 
prolong  their  evil  life — threatening  some  men  and  brib- 
ing, or  trying  to  bribe,  others;  but  Judge  Lynch  came 
to  the  support  of  Judge  Gale,  with  the  counter-threat  of 
“ a cottonwood  limb  and  a rope,”  and  so  gamblers  ceased 
to  rule  in  Denver.  The  happy  change  was  freely  com- 
mented on,  and  now  that  it  had  come,  people  wondered 
why  they  had  endured  the  blacklegs  so  long.  Denver 
was  now  evidently  aspiring  to  better  things — to  “ sweeter 
manners,  purer  laws.”  Her  merchants  and  bankers 
were  building  themselves  homes,  sending  east  for  their 
families,  and  settling  down,  as  if  to  stay.  Though  not 
so  law-abiding  and  Sabbath-loving,  as  our  eastern  cities, 
yet  her  churches  were  well-attended ; and  her  Episcopal 
Bishop  (Randall),  we  found  scouring  the  country  wdtli  all 
the  earnestness  and  zeal  -of  an  old-time  missionary,  or 
Methodist  itinerant.  Band  and  gown,  stole  and  chasuble, 
and  other  ritualistic  millenary,  he  affected  but  little  • 
but  he  preached  Christ  and  Him  crucified  with  a tender- 
ness and  power,  that  touched  all  hearts,  and  Colorado 
already  had  come  to  love  and  honor  him.  “ Seek  ye  first 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness,  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you,”  was  his  text  for  as 
sound  and  appropriate  a discourse  the  Sabbath  wre  were 
in  Denver,  as  we  had  heard  in  a long  while.  Every 
sentence  struck  home,  like  a rapier  ora  bullet,  at  some  sin 
most  prevalent  in  Colorado,  and  Denver  might  wTell 
“make  a note  of  it.”  Subsequently  we  heard  of  him  in 
the  mines  and  among  the  mountains,  preaching  in  quartz- 


60 


HER  GROWTH  AND  ENTERPRISE- 


111  ills  and  by  the  roadside — wherever  lie  could  gather  a 
handful  of  hearers — always  engaged  in  the  Master’s 
work,  and  always  leaving  a deep  impression  behind 
him. 

Denver,  with  water  and  coal  both  near,  yet  had  neither 
water  nor  gas  works  then,  and  scarcely  a tree  or  shrub 
growing  anywhere.  Numerous  trees  had  been  planted, 
and  much  shrubbery ; but  the  long  and  rainless  summers 
had  proven  too  much  for  them.  The  winter  before,  a 
company  had  been  chartered  to  bring  water  from  the 
mountains,  for  irrigating  and  other  purposes,  and  they 
already  had  one  ditch  completed — three  or  four  feet 
wide,  by  one  or  two  deep — and  were  projecting  others. 
This  one  irrigated  several  farms,  turned  a grist-mill  or 
two,  and  then,  with  a branch  to  the  fair-grounds,  emptied 
into  the  Platte.  But  Denver  must  have  such  ditches,  all 
around  and  through  her,  if  she  wants  trees  and  shrub- 
bery and  then  she  may  have  streets  and  suburbs  unsur- 
passed anywhere.  Salt  Lake,  we  afterwards  found,  had 
done  this  ; and  Denver  will,  when  she  has  once  been 
well  scourged  by  lire.  Then  she  was  powerless  against 
the  fire-fiend,  and  a large  conflagration  well  under  way 
would  have  swept  the  town.* 

Though  the  largest  town  in  Colorado,  and  of  com- 
manding influence  there,  yet  Denver  we  found  was  not 
the  capital,  but  Golden  City  instead — a hamlet  of  live 
hundred  inhabitants  or  so,  fifteen  miles  farther  west,  at 
the  base  of  the  mountains.  The  Territorial  Legislature 
convened  there  every  winter,  as  required  by  law;  but 
immediately  adjourned  to  Denver,  where  all  business 
was  really  transacted,  and  where  the  governor  and 
other  territorial  officers  resided,  when  not  absent  in  the 
states,  as  some  often  were.  In  location,  Denver  itself 
* See  Appendix. 


AN  ELECTION  IMBROGLIO 


61 


was,  no  doubt  a geographical  blunder,  as  the  business  of 
the  country  was  really  among  the  mines  and  mountains ; 
but  as  gold  had  been  first  discovered  here,  it  got  the 
start,  and  bade  fair  to  maintain  its  supremacy.  The 
sharpest  and  shrewdest  men  in  Colorado,  we  found  were 
all  settled  here.  All  enterprises,  of  much  pith  and 
moment,  began  and  ended  here.  All  capital  centred 
here.  And  Denver  brains  and  Denver  capital,  it  was 
plain  to  see,  ruled  and  controlled  our  whole  Rocky 
Mountain  region,  north  to  Dacotah  and  south  to  New 
Mexico. 

Denver  had  two  real  “sensations,”  while  we  were 
there — one,  the  alleged  usurpation  of  Gov.  Cumming, 
the  other  the  arrival  of  Gen.  Sherman.  It  seemed 
there  had  been  a territorial  election,  for  delegate  to 
Congress,  and  the  returns  not  being  clear,  Gov. 
Cumming  assumed  to  give  the  certificate  of  election  to 
Hunt,  an  Andrew  Johnson  man,  rather  than  to  Chilcott, 
a radical  Republican — notwithstanding  the  Board  of 
Canvassers  decided  otherwise.  The  governor  claimed 
that  the  law  and  facts  were  with  him,  but  the  Board  of 
Canvassers  protested  to  the  contrary,  and  popular  opinion 
seemed  to  sustain  them.  There  was  a breezy  time  in 
Denver  for  awhile.  The  papers  savagely  denounced 
the  governor’s  conduct,  as  an  outrage  and  usurpation, 
and  fell  into  a vein  of  coarse  vituperation  they  seemed 
incapable  of  before.  The  saloons  were  filled  with 
excited  crowds  at  night;  knots  gathered  on  the  streets 
by  day  ; and  presently,  one  morning  out  came  the  papers 
with  the  old-time  suggestion  of  “ a cottonwood  limb  and 
a rope,”  if  His  Excellency  did  not  yield.  An  explosion 
was  now  hourly  expected,  but  it  did  not  come.  Denver 
evidently  had  grown  in  grace.  The  mob-spirit  of  her 
early  days  could  not  be  revived,  and  all  good  citizens 


G2 


GOV.  GUMMING  AND  GEN.  SHERMAN 


rejoiced  to  see  it.  No  doubt  she  liked  Judge  Lynch 
still ; but  she  liked  Eastern  immigration  and  English 
capital  better,  and  would  do  nothing  to  startle  either. 
The  governor  wisely  appeared  in  public  but  little,  and 
for  several  nights  found  it  convenient  to  sleep  elsewhere 
than  at  home.  Finally,  it  was  given  out,  that  the 
military  were  on  his  side,  as  in  duty  bound,  and  the 
storm  presently  blew  over.  Subsequently  it  appeared, 
that  said  military  consisted  of  only  two  officers,  without 
a single  soldier  ; but  Ilis  Excellency  attributed  his  safety 
to  them,  all  the  same.  General  Sherman’s  arrival  im- 
mediately after  was  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  It  followed 
on  the  heels  of  the  election  imbroglio,  and  was  a good 
salve  to  the  public  sore.  All  Denver  turned  out  to 
welcome  him  and  his  distinguished  brother  (the  Ohio 
Senator),  and  a cavalcade  of  horsemen  and  carriages  met 
them  miles  away.  Next  night  there  was  a reception, 
banquet,  speeches,  ball,  etc.  and  hundreds  assembled  to 
do  them  honor.  There  was  a lamentable  lack  of  ladies ; 
but  brighter,  keener  men,  you  could  find  nowhere. 
What  there  were  of  ladies,  were  intelligent  and  sprightly, 
and  all  were  richly  attired  and  adorned  ; but  Denver 
needed  more  of  them.  Everybody  vied  in  doing 
Sherman  honor,  as  a great  soldier  who  had  fought  nobly 
for  the  country.  They  did  not  know  his  views  yet  on 
the  Indian  question,  which  a few  months  afterwards 
they  denounced  so  severely.  By  an  ambulance  tour  of 
two  thousand  miles,  from  post  to  post,  through  the  heart 
of  the  Indian  country,  he  was  trying  to  study  the  Indian 
question  for  himself,  as  the  great  question  of  his  Military 
Division ; and  yet  Denver,  fond  of  contracts,  claimed  to 
understand  that  questio  vexata  better  than  he  ! 

We  left  Denver  one  bright  September  morning  for 
Central  City  and  the  Mines.  A stage  ran  daily,  but 


GOLDEN  CITY  AND  THE  MOUNTAINS 


63 


wanting  to  travel  more  leisurely  we  went  by  ambulance. 
Across  the  Platte,  and  over  the  Plains  again  for  fifteen 
miles,  brought  us  to  the  mountains  and  Golden  City,  just 
within  the  foothills.  Clear  Creek  dashes  through  the 
“ city,”  a broad  swift  stream,  furnishing  fine  water-pow- 
er for  several  mills  already,  with  plenty  to  spare  for  more. 
Coal,  iron,  lead,  copper  and  kaolin  were  said  to  exist  in 
the  mountains  adjacent,  and  this  water-power  was  therefore 
justly  esteemed  very  valuable.  Four  or  five  miles  farther 
on,  the  mountains  seem  to  close  up — a solid  rampart — be- 
fore you  ; but  suddenly  the  road  shifts  and  at  Gate  City, 
through  a narrow  rocky  canon  you  again  pass  on.  The 
road  here  follows  up  a diminutive  mountain  stream,  cross- 
ing and  re-crossing  its  bed  every  few  yards,  and  by  a 
very  sinuous  course  slowly  makes  its  way  forward  between 
abrupt  masses  of  red  and  purple  rock,  that  everywhere 
seemed. to  block  its  progress.  Farther  on,  the  hills  open 
out,  and  wild  currant  and  gooseberry-bushes  appear,  with 
pines  and'  firs  here  and  there — many  charred  by  former 
fires.  The  road  gets  wilder  the  farther  you  proceed,  and 
the  mountain  views  become  more  and  more  superb. 
Y ou  catch  glimpses  of  the  great  Snowy  Range  from  time 
to  time  ; but  after  awhile  you  cross  the  first  range,  and 
then  you  have  the  great  white-capped  Sierra  almost  always 
before  you.  Three  peaks  there  are  especially  superb — Old 
Chief,  Squaw  and  Papoose — their  white  and  glittering 
summits  flashing  gloriously  in  the  sunshine.  Sometimes 
we  got  long  views  of  the  Snowy  Range,  for  miles  on 
miles ; and  then  again,  deep  down  in  some  wild  gorge,  its 
rocky  sides  would  suddenly  expand,  and  there  would  stand 
these  three  grand  peaks  projected  against  the  clear  sky, 
framed  in  like  a picture.  A right  “ kingly  spirit  throned 
among  the  hills,”  Old  Chief  seemed  to  be  keeping  watch 
and  ward  over  these  Rocky  Mountain  fastnesses  in  solemn 


64 


CENTRAL  CITY 


and  solitary  grandeur  ; but  the  Yankee  and  the  miner 
had  been  too  much  for  him. 

We  dined  en  route , getting  a good  meal  for  seventy- 
five  cents,  and  reached  the  Conner  House  at  Central 
City,  about  6 p.  m.,  forty  miles  from  Denver.  What  a 
strange  place  was  this,  and  how  surprising  it  all  seemed ! 
A busy,  active,  bustling  town,  with  all  the  appliances 
of  eastern  civilization,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains — our  ultima  thule  but  a few  years  ago  ! Or, 
rather,  four  towns — Black  Hawk,  Gregory  Gulch,  Moun- 
tain City,  and  Central  City — all  now  grown  into  one. 
It  never  was  any  place  for  a town  ; but  there  had  to  be 
one  there,  and  so  American  genius  and  pluck  went  to 
work  and  created  it.  Imagine  a narrow,  winding  moun- 
tain-gorge, with  Clear  Creek  flashing  through  it,  with 
scarcely  standing-room  on  either  side  for  an  antelope 
even,  and  you  have  about  all  Nature  has  done  for  a town- 
site  there.  Yet  our  miners  had  stuck  mills,  and  stores, 
and  saloons,  and  dwelling-houses,  and  churches  here, 
almost  everywhere,  in  the  most  delightful  and  picturesque 
confusion.  Some  were  astride  of  Clear  Creek,  as  if 
wading  up  stream.  Others  were  propped  up  on  its  edges, 
as  if  about  to  topple  in.  Others  again  were  mounted  on 
lofty  stilts,  all  along  the  mountain  side,  as  if  just  ready 
to  start  and  walk  away.  About  and  through  them  all, 
following  the  general  course  of  Clear  Creek,  wound  one 
long  and  narrow  street — too  narrow  for  side-walks — and 
here  in  this  bizarre  place,  walled  in  on  all  sides  by  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  lived  and  flourished  six  thousand  souls, 
all  apparently  busy  and  w^ell-to-do — with  banks,  schools, 
churches,  newspapers,  telegraphs,  theatres,  and  pretty 
much  all  the  institutions  and  destitutions  of  modern 
society.  There  only  remained  one  need,  a railroad,  and 
that  was  already  in  contemplation,  down  Clear  Creek  to 


A LIVE  MINING  TOWN — 


65 


Golden  City,  and  so  away  to  Denver.  This  would  bring 
the  ores  and  coal  together  at  Golden  City,  for  fuel  was 
becoming  scarce  among  the  mines;  would  save  much  of 
the  cost  of  travel  and  transportation  by  the  wild  moun- 
tain roads ; and  be  a great  blessing  to  the  mining  regions 
every  way.*  After  tea,  we  strolled  through  the  town  for 
a mile  or  more,  and  found  the  streets  full  to  overflowing. 
The  theatres  were  crowded,  and  the  drinking  and  gam- 
bling-saloons in  full  blast ; yet  the  streets  were  compara- 
tively orderly.  The  population  seemed  of  a better  class 
than  one  would  suppose,  all  things  considered.  There 
were  scarcely  any  women,  it  is  true,  and  what  there  were 
had  better  been  elsewhere,  as  a rule ; but  the  men 
carried  keen,  clear-cut,  energetic  faces,  that  well  explained 
the  enterprise  and  elan  of  this  audacious  town.  Of 
foreigners,  there  were  far  fewer  than  one  ordinarily  meets 
east,  and  the  Americans  as  a rule  were  athletic  and  live 
men — fit  t-o  be  the  pioneers  of  empire.  The  inevitable 
African,  of  course,  cropped  out  here  and  there  ; but 
usually  he  had  risen  from  the  dignity  of  a barber  or  a 
bootblack,  to  be  a merchant  or  a miner.  Everybody  talked 
of  “feet,”  and  “claims,”  and  “dust;”  and  bets  were 
made,  and  drinks  paid  for,  in  “ ounces”  and  parts  of  an 
ounce,  as  determined  by  the  universal  scales  and  weights. 
Greenbacks  were  still  taken,  but  they  were  regarded  as 
a depreciated  currency,  unworthy  of  the  Mines  and 
Mountains. 

Indications  of  mining  operations  appeared  first  at 
Denver,  where  gold  was  first  discovered  at  the  junction 
of  the  South  Platte  and  Cherry  Creek.  But  the  “ dig- 
gings,” or  placer  mines,  here  were  soon  worked  out,  and 
then  the  miners  naturally  ascended  Cherry  Creek  to 
Clear  Creek,  and  so  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains.  All 
* This  road  since  built  and  now  in  operation. 


66 


PLACER  AND  QUARTZ  MINES 


along  North  Clear  Creek,  you  see  where  the  stream  has 
been  turned  aside,  and  its  bed  “panned”  over,  and  as  we 
approached  Black  Hawk  we  found  a few  miners  still 
humbly  at  work  this  way.  But  placer-mining  in 
Colorado  had  mostly  been  abandoned  as  no  longer  profit- 
able, and  now  the  chief  labor  and  capital  were  applied 
to  the  quartz  mines — the  parents  of  the  “ diggings.” 
These  seemed  to  occur,  more  or  less,  all  through  the 
Bocky  Mountains,  wherever  quartz  cropped  out;  but 
the  richest  of  them  thus  far  had  been  found  in  the  nar- 
row defile  about  Central  City.  The  sides  of  the  ranges 
there  had  been  “ prospected  ” all  over,  until  they  seemed 
honey-combed  or  like  pepper-boxes,  so  ragged  and  torn 
were  they  with  the  process.  Here  and  there  they  were 
divided  up  into  infinitesimal  lots,  rudely  enclosed, 
embracing  a few  hundred  feet  or  so,  denoting  mining 
“ claims.”  Many  of  these  had  shafts  sunk  some  distance, 
with  a board  up,  proclaiming  name  of  mine  and  the 
ownership  thereof,  but  others  were  without  these.  The 
favorite  mine  in  Colorado  just  then  seemed  to  be  the 
Gregory  Consolidated,  near  Central  City.  We  went 
down  into  this  some  three  hundred  feet,  exploring  its 
various  galleries,  and  it  seemed  to  be  all  that  was  repre- 
sented. The  gold  here  wras  so  much  diffused  through  the 
quartz  as  to  be  imperceptible  to  the  eye,  and  was  further 
mingled  badly  with  silver,  copper,  and  sulphur.  The 
company  had  erected  no  mill  as  yet,  but  w’ere  contenting 
themselves  with  developing  the  lode,  and  getting  out 
“pay-ore.”  Their  plan  was  to  sink  the  main  shaft 
straight  down  on  the  lode,  and  every  twenty  feet  or  so 
follow  up  the  indications  by  lateral  galleries,  to  see 
whether  the  vein  held  out  or  not.  So  far  it  was  doing 
well,  and  the  ore  continued  of  an- excellent  quality.  But 
it  was  so  difficult  to  reduce,  there  was  no  mill  in  Col* 


SILVER  MINING  IN  GENERAL 


67 


orado  that  could  save  a fair  proportion  of  the  gold  ; so 
that  what  ore  they  cared  to  work  was  shipped  east,  or  to 
Swansea,  Wales,  even,  for  reduction.  The  superintend- 
ent of  the  mine  was  a sturdy  young  Englishman,  once  a 
humble  miner  with  his  pick  and  candle,  but  afterwards 
sub-superintendent  of  a great  silver  mine  in  Mexico,  and 
now  for  two  or  three  years  here — a man  of  rare  energy 
and  intelligence.  No  wonder  the  stock  of  the  Gregory 
Consolidated  was  steadily  rising,  with  such  a policy  and 
such  a superintendent.  Too  many  of  the  companies  organ- 
ized in  the  east  were  pursuing  just  the  contrary  course. 
They  were  putting  up  mills  at  once  at  great  expense, 
with  steam  engines  and  stamps  complete,  and  then 
when  they  came  to  sink  down  upon  their  veins,  lo  ! they 
had  no  “ jfay-ore”  there,  or  at  least  none  worth  working. 
A signal  instance  of  this  had  occurred  a year  or  two 
before.  A New  York  Wall  street  Company  had  been 
organized,  on  a broad  basis,  and  with  great  expectations. 
With  a West  Point  ex-armv  officer  superintendent  and 
plenty  of  capital,  their  stock  soon  went  soaring  up  like  a 
rocket ; but  presently  it  came  down  again  like  a stick — 
a la  their  superintendent  during  the  war.  He  erected  a 
splendid  mill  of  dressed  stone  at  a cost  of  thousands  of 
dollars,  and  went  in  wildly  for  all  the  latest  and  most 
improved  machinery ; but  when  afterwards  he  came  to 
test  their  lode  thoroughly,  alas ! he  discovered  they  had 
only  a poor  sickly  trace  of  ore,  that  soon  u petered  out,” 
and  so  that  fine  company  of  gold  and  silver  miners 
incontinently  collapsed — or,  as  Mr.  Mantilini  would  have 
said,  “ went  to  the  demnition  bow-wows ! ” Machinery 
that  cost  the  company  thirty-three  thousand  dollars  in 
New  York,  was  afterwards  sold  by  the  Colorado  sheriff 
for  thirteen  hundred  -dollars,  to  pay  freight  bills ; and 
other  property  in  proportion.  Other  instances  were 


68 


COLORADO  ORES 


reported  to  ns,  but  none  quite  so  bad  as  this.  But  from 
the  large  number  of  mills  and  mines  standing  idle — 
fully  fifty  per  cent.,  it  seemed — we  could  well  believe 
that  mining  machinery  could  be  bought  cheaper  in  Col- 
orado than  New  York,  and  that  steam-engines  and 
boilers  were  a drug.  A foundry-man  beyond  Golden 
City,  we  were  told,  found  it  more  profitable  to  buy  up 
old  machinery  and  recast  it,  than  to  work  a rich  iron 
mine,  though  the  former  was  scattered  through  the 
mountains  and  the  latter  was  just  at  his  door. 

The  trouble  with  the  Colorado  ores  was,  they  were 
refractory  sulphurets,  which  we  had  not  yet  learned  how 
to  reduce  at  a profit.  They  assayed  very  readily  two 
hundred  and  even  three  hundred  dollars  per  ton,  or  more  ; 
but  when  you  came  to  mill  them  out  in  large  quantities, 
you  were  lucky  if  you  got  twenty-five  or  thirty  dollars 
per  ton.  The  problem  Colorado  then  wanted  solved  was 
how  to  desulphurize  these  rich  ores  of  hers  at  a profit. 
Various  “processes”  were  continually  being  tried  at 
great  expense,  but  none  of  them  seemed  yet  to  be  the 
“success”  she  desired.  Stamp-mills,  with  copper-plate 
and  quicksilver  amalgamators,  seemed  to  be  the  process 
in  use  generally,  though  not  saving  over  twenty-five  per 
cent,  of  the  precious  metals  usually.  Many  companies 
were  using  these  and  saving  their  “ talings,”  or  refuse, 
wfith  the  expectation  of  yet  realizing  goodly  sums  from 
working  the  “ talings  ” over  by  some  new  process  by-and- 
bye.  A “process”  just  introduced  was  saving  from 
twenty-five  to  fifty  per  cent  more  from  these  “ talings;  ” 
but  it  was  too  costly  for  general  use,  or,  perhaps,  to  pay. 
Individual  mine-owners  and  the  lighter  companies  seemed 
mostly  to  have  suspended,  or  like  Mr.  Micawber  to  be 
waiting  for  “ something  to  turn  up  ” — for  the  strong 
companies  to  go  on  and  find  the  much  coveted  “ new  pro- 


BOGUS  COMPANIES — 


69 


cess,”  when  they  would  resume  operations.  Another 
trouble  evidently  was  the  great  number  of  companies 
organized  to  sell  stock  east,  rather  than  to  mine  success- 
fully. Companies,  with  a property  worth  a hundred 
thousand  dollars,  had  frequently  issued  stock  for  a million, 
and  of  course  could  not  expect  to  make  regular  dividends 
on  such  an  overplus.  On  a basis  of  a hundred  thousand 
dollars,  or  real  value,  with  an  experienced  honest  super- 
intendent, they  might  have  got  along  well,  if  content  to 
creep  at  first  and  walk  afterwards.  But  as  a rule  they 
had  preferred  to  “ water  ” their  stock,  after  the  most 
approved  Sangrado  method  ; and  the  result,  after  a year 
or  two’s  operations,  was  disappointed  stockholders  and 
the  old,  old  cry  of  “ bogus  ” and  “ wild-cat.”  Many  of 
the  companies,  too,  were  heavily  in  debt,  and  what  was 
called  in  Colorado  parlance  “freezing  out”  was  taking 
place  largely.  That  is  to  say,  a company  gives  a mortgage 
for  say  twenty  thousand  dollars  on  property  worth  per- 
haps a hundred  thousand,  or  at  least  represented  by  that 
amount  of  stock.  When  due  it  is  not  met,  the  treasury 
being  empty,  and  the  stockholders  discouraged  from 
want  of  dividends,  or  by  “ bear  ” reports  about  the  mine ; 
whereupon  the  mortgage  is  foreclosed,  and  the  “ bear  ” 
directors  buy  the  property  in  for  a song,  thus  “ freezing 
out  ” the  feebler  and  more  timid  brethren.  This  opera- 
tion may  lack  the  essential  feature  of  old-fashioned  hon- 
esty, but  is  no  doubt  a paying  one — pecuniarily — for  the 
new  owners,  who  can  now  well  afford  to  go  bravely  on. 
“ Others  may  sink ; but  what’s  the  odds,  so  we  apples 
swim  ! ” 

No  doubt  Colorado  is  rich,  immensely  rich,  in 
mineral  resources — gold,  silver,  copper,  iron,  coal,  etc., — 
but  she  was  scarcely  making  much  decided  headway  as  a 
mining  community,  so  far  as  could  be  seen,  in  1866. 


70 


YIELD  OF  MINES 


Considerable  of  her  population,  indeed,  had  gone  off  to 
Montana  and  Idaho,  to  the  reputed  rich  gold-fields 
there,  and  many  of  the  rest  were  waiting  patiently  for 
the  Pacific  Pailroad  and  a market.  Great  results  were 
anticipated  from  the  oncoming  of  the  railroad,  and  it  is  to 
be  hoped  she  has  realized  them.  Her  yield  of  the  pre- 
cious metals  in  1862,  it  was  estimated  by  good  authority, 
amounted  to  ten  millions  of  dollars ; but  in  1863  it  fell 
to  eight  millions,  in  1861  to  five  millions,  and  in  1865  to 
four  millions.  Hess  Browne,  in  1866,  in  his  report  of  Min- 
eral Resources  of  the  United  States , with  characteristic 
exaggeration,  estimated  her  yield  for  that  year  at  seventeen 
millions  ; but  more  accurate  observers  regarded  this  as  a 
California  joke,  and  pronounced  his  estimate  at  least  four 
or  five  times  too  high.  The  large  yield  in  1862  repre- 
sented the  maximum  from  gulch  or  placer  mining,  and 
the  soft  outcroppings  of  the  quartz  veins.  But  in  1866 
placer  mining,  as  I have  said,  had  mostly  ceased, 
and  our  quartz-miners  had  to  go  down  so  deep,  and  then 
got  only  the  hardest  and  most  refractory  sulphurets,  that 
the  business  greatly  languished.  Yet,  it  was  plain  to  be 
seen,  the  gold  and  the  silver  were  all  there,  in  inexhaus- 
tible quantities,  practically  speaking ; or  as  Mr.  Lincoln 
once  remarked,  in  speaking  of  our  western  mines,  “ We 
there  hold  the  Treasury  of  the  world  ! ” All  Colorado 
wanted,  as  elsewhere  said,  was  the  right  “ process  ” to 
subdue  these  rebellious  sulphurets  and  compel  them  to 
release  their  imprisoned  deities.  Science  surely  holds  the 
key  somewhere,  and  waits  only  the  coming  man  to  hand 
it  over  to  him.  Millions  of  our  countrymen  are  watch- 
ing and  praying  for  him.  A half  a continent  calls  for  him. 
And  when  this  coming  man  does  come,  who  shall  estimate 
the  untold  treasures  he  will  here  unlock  and  outpour 
upon  the  world  ! He  will  but  have  to  strike  the  naked 


THE  SARATOGA  OF  COLORADO 


71 


rocks,  and  abundant  streams  of  wealth  will  gush  forth. 
He  will  but  have  to  touch  the  rugged  mountain  sides, 
and  gold  and  silver  by  the  million  will  obey  his  bidding — 
enough  not  only  to  pay  our  own  National  Debt,  but  the 
National  Debts  of  the  world.  Let  Colorado,  then,  be  of 
good  courage.  The  JPaciiic  Railroad  will  cheapen  sup- 
plies, and  swell  the  volume  of  her  immigration.  The 
Yankee  hand  and  brain  are  busily  at  work,  conning  over 
her  knotty  problem  ; and  we  may  be  sure,  that  the  right 
hour  will  bring  the  necessary  man. 

From  Central  City  wTe  crossed  the  range  at  an  alti- 
tude of  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  thence 
descended  to  Idaho,  on  South  Clear  Creek.  A fine  hotel 
here,  in  good  view  of  the  Snowy  range,  boasted  itself 
the  best  in  Colorado,  and  we  found  none  better.  Here 
also  were  several  fine  mineral  springs,  that  bubble  up 
quite  near  to  each  other,  and  yet  are  all  of  different  tem- 
peratures. A bath-house  had  been  erected,  where  you 
might  take  a plunge  in  hot  or  cold  water,  as  you  chose  ; 
the  walks  were  romantic,  with  a possibility  of  deer  or  bear ; 
the  sights,  what  with  ravine,  and  ridge,  and  peak,  were 
magnificent ; and  Idaho,  already  something  of  a sum- 
mer resort,  expected  yet  to  become  the  Saratoga  of 
Colorado.  Up  South  Clear  Creek,  above  Idaho,  were 
the  new  mining  districts  of  Georgetown  and  Mill  City, 
then  but  recently  discovered  and  reputed  quite  rich  ; 
but  we  had  not  time  to  visit  them.  Down  South  Clear 
Creek,  and  thence  to  Denver,  is  a wild  and  surprising 
ride  of  forty-five  miles,  that  well  repays  you.  Much  of 
the  way  Clear  Creek  roars  and  tumbles  by  the  roadside, 
with  the  rocky  walls  of  its  canon  towering  far  above 
you  ; and  when  at  length  you  cross  the  last  range  and 
prepare  to  descend,  you  catch  a distant  view  of  Denver 
and  the  Plains,  that  has  few  if  any  equals  in  all  that 


72 


A SUPERB  LANDSCAPE 


region.  The  sun  was  fast  declining,  as  we  rounded  the 
last  crag  or  shoulder  of  the  range,  and  the  Plains — out- 
stretched, illimitable,  everlasting — were  all  before  us, 
flooded  with  light  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  while  the 
mountains  already  in  shade  were  everywhere  projecting 
their  lengthening  shadows  across  the  foot-hills,  like  grim 
phantoms  of  the  night.  A cloudless  sky  overarched  the 
whole.  Denver  gleamed  and  sparkled  in  the  midst 
twenty  miles  away,  the  brightest  jewel  of  the  Plains; 
and  beyond,  the  Platte  flashed  onward  to  the  east  a 
thread  of  silver.  It  was  a superb  and  glorious  scene, 
and  for  an  hour  afterward,  as  we  descended  the  range, 
we  caught  here  and  there  exquisite  views  of  it,  through 
the  opening  pine  and  fir  trees,  that  transferred  to  canvas 
would  surely  have  made  the  fortune  of  any  painter. 
With  our  Pacific  Railroad  completed,  our  artists  must 
take  time  to  study  up  the  Rocky  Mountains,  with  all 
their  fine  effects  of  light  and  shade — of  wide  extent  and  far 
perspective,  of  clear  atmosphere,  blue  sky,  and  purple 
haze — and  then  their  landscapes  may  well  delight  and 
charm  the  world. 

Mining  is,  of  course,  the  chief  business  of  all  that 
region,  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Mountains,  and  the 
habits  and  customs  of  the  miner  prevail  everywhere.  He 
digs  and  tunnels  pretty  much  as  he  wills — under  roads, 
beneath  houses,  below  towns — and  all  things,  more  or 
less,  are  made  subservient  to  his  will.  His  free-and-easy 
ways  mark  social  and  political  life,  and  his  slang — half 
Mexican,  half  miner — is  everywhere  the  language  of  the 
masses.  A square”  meal  is  his  usual  phrase  for  a full 
or  first-rate  one.  A “ shebang”  means  any  structure, 
from  a hotel  to  a shanty.  An  “ outfit”  is  a very  general 
term,  meaning  anything  you  may  happen  to  have,  from 
a stamp-mill  complete  to  a tooth-pick — a suit  of  clothes 


miners’  slang  — 


73 


or  a revolver — a twelve-ox  team  or  a velocipede.  A 
“ divide”,  means  a ridge  or  water-shed  between  two 
valleys  or  depressions.  A “ canon”  is  Mexican  or  Span- 
ish for  a deep  detile  or  gorge  in  the  mountains.  A 
“ ranch,”  ditto,  means  a farm,  or  a sort  of  half-tavern 
and  half -farm,  as  the  country  needs  there.  To  “ vamose 
the  ranch”  means  to  clear  out,  to  depart,  to  cut  stick,  to 
absquatulate.  A “corral,”  ditto,  means  an  enclosed 
horse  or  cattle-yard.  To  “ corral  ” a man  or  stock, 
therefore,  means  to  corner  him  or  it.  To  go  down  to 
“ bed-rock,”  means  the  very  bottom  of  things.  “ Panned- 
out”  means  exhausted,  used-up,  bankrupt.  “ Pay-streak” 
means  a vein  of  gold  or  silver  quartz,  that  it  will  pay  to 
work.  When  it  ceases  to  pay,  it  is  said  to  “ peter  out.” 
Said  a miner  one  day  at  dinner,  at  a hotel  in  Central 
City,  to  a traveller,  from  the  east,  “I  say,  stranger,” 
pointing  to  a piece  of  meat  by  his  side,  “-is  there  a pay- 
streak  in  that  beef  thar  ? ” He  wanted  to  know  if  there 
was  a piece  of  it  worth  eating  or  not.  The  short  phrase 
“You  bet!”  is  pure  Californice,  and  has  followed  our 
miners  thence  eastward  across  the  continent.  We  struck 
it  first  on  the  Missouri,  and  thence  found  it  used  every- 
where and  among  all  classes,  to  express  by  different 
intonations  a great  variety  of  meanings.  For  example, 
meeting  a man  you  remark : 

“ It  is  a fine  day,  my  friend  ! ” 

He  answers  promptly  and  decidedly,  “You  bet!” 
You  continue,  “It  is  a great  country  you  have  out 
here ! ” 

He  responds,  “ You  bet  ye  ! ” sharp  and  quick. 

“A  good  many  mills  standing  idle,  though  ! ” 

“ Wa’ll,  yes,  too  many  of  them!  You  bet!”  with  a 
knowing  shake  of  the  head. 

“ Miners  making  much  now-a-days  ? ” 

4 


74 


“ YOU  BET.” 

“ Oh,  yes ! Some  of  us,  a heap  ! You  bet ! ” rather 
timid. 

“ Going  back  to  the  states  one  of  these  days  ? ” 

“ When  I make  my  pile ! You  bet  ! ” firm  and 
decided. 

“ Get  married  then,  I suppose  ? ” 

“Won’t  I ? Just  that ! You  bet  ye  ! ” with  his  hat 
up,  his  eyes  wide  open,  and  his  face  all  aglow  with 
honest  pride  and  warm  memory  of  “ The  girl  I left 
behind  me ! ” 

In  Central  City  they  told  us  a story  of  a miner,  who 
was  awakened  one  night  by  a noise  at  his  window,  and 
found  it  to  be  a burglar  trying  to  get  in.  Slipping 
quietly  out  of  bed,  he  waited  patiently  by  the  window 
until  the  sash  was  well  up,  and  the  burglar  tolerably  in, 
when  he  placed  his  revolver  against  the  fello'w’s  head, 
and  sententiously  remarked,  “Now  you  git!”  The 
story  ran,  the  burglar  looking  quietly  up  surveyed  the 
situation,  with  the  cold  steel  against  his  brow,  and  as 
sententiously  replied,  as  he  backed  out  and  dropped  to 
the  ground,  “ You  bet  1 ” 


CHAPTER  VI. 


AMONG-  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

THE  Plains  after  awhile  became  somewhat  of  a bore, 
they  are  so  vast  and  outstretched,  and  you  long  for 
a change,  something  to  break  the  monotony.  To  us 
this  came  one  evening,  just  beyond  Fort  Morgan,  when 
a hundred  and  fifty  miles  away,  just  peeping  above  the 
horizon,  we  descried  the  cone-like  summit  of  Long’s 
Peak,  all  pink  and  rosy  in  the  sunset.  “ Driver,  isn’t 
that  the  Mountains?”  said  some  one.  “You  bet!” 
was  his  answer,  of  course.  “ ’Tisn’t  often  you  can  see 
the  Peak  this  fur  ; but  it  is  mighty  clar  to-day  ! ” The 
night  soon  afterwards  shut  down  upon  us,  during  which 
we  bowled  rapidly  along  from  station  to  station,  and  the 
next  morning  were  early  awake.  Soon  the  sun  rose 
bright  and  clear ; but  the  air  was  keen,  with  a stiff 
breeze  eastward  in  our  teeth.  We  were  down  in  a wide 
depression  of  the  Plains ; but  presently  we  rose  up  out 
of  it,  and  as  we  struck  the  summit  of  the  “ divide,”  lo, 
the  Rocky  Mountains  were  before  us  in  all  their 
grandeur  and  sublimity.  To  the  north  rose  Long’s  Peak, 
fourteen  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  heaven-kissing, 
but  with  his  night-cap  still  on  ; to  the  south,  was  Pike’s 
Peak,  eleven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  snow-crowned; 
while  between,  a hundred  miles  or  more,  swelled  and 
towered  the  Mountains — at  the  base  mere  foot-hills,  then 
ridge  mounting  on  ridge  and  peak  on  peak,  until  over 


76 


CAMPING  OUT  AGAIN 


and  above  all  the  Snowy  Range  cropped'  out  sublime. 
Patches  of  pines  dotted  their  surface  here  and  there, 
but  the  general  effect  was  that  of  nakedness  and  barren- 
ness. Clouds  hung  about  their  summits,  or  lingered 
along  their  sides ; but  the  uprising  sun  soon  dissipated 
these,  or  sent  them  careering  aloft,  as  if  bound  for 
heaven.  In  the  course  of  the  morning  we  whirled  into 
Denver,  and  there  for  a week  or  more — by  sunlight,  by 
moonlight — the  Mountains  were  ever  before  us,  in  all 
their  thousand  varieties  of  tint  and  shadow.  They 
never  seemed  precisely  the  same.  Some  new  point 
was  ever  looming  up,  or  flashing  out — and  yet  they 
always  realized  one’s  best  conceptions  of  beauty,  grandeur, 
vastness,  and  sublimity. 

Subsequently,  accepting  an  invitation  to  accompany 
Gen.  Sherman  and  Gov.  Gumming  to  Southern  Col- 
orado and  an  Indian  treaty  there,  we  spent  nearly  a 
month  among  the  Rocky  Mountains,  following  down 
their  eastern  base  and  crossing  them  to  Fort  Garland,  some 
two  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  thence  returning  to 
Denver  again  through  the  heart  of  them,  via  San  Luis 
Park,  Homan’s  Park,  and  South  Park.  This  trip  we 
made  by  ambulance,  camping  out  at  night,  and  rationing 
ourselves,  as  there  were  no  stages  on  the  route  and  very 
few  settlements.  Our  little  party,  by  the  addition  of 
officers  and  others  at  Denver,  had  swelled  to  seven, 
exclusive  of  cook  and  teamsters.  Our  “ outfit”  con- 
sisted of  two  four-horse  ambulances  and  an  army-wagon, 
with  spare  animals  for  saddle  or  other  purposes,  as 
occasion  required.  We  took  a tent  along,  but  seldom 
had  occasion  to  use  it.  We  had  blankets  and  buffalo 
robes  for  the  night ; some  stray  books  and  magazines  for 
the  day,  when  weary  of  the  scenery  ; pipes  and  tobacco 
for  all ; and  other  supplies,  it  seemed,  ad  infinitum.  In 


INDIAN  RUMORS  AGAIN 


77 


the  matter  of  arms,  wliat  with  our  repeating- rifles  and 
revolvers  for  Indians,  and  a brace  of  fowling-pieces  for 
game,  our  ambulances  were  travelling  arsenals.  And 
from  reports  on  leaving  Denver,  (Sept.  13th)  we  did 
not  know  but  we  should  want  all,  and  more.  With  the 
usual  exaggeration  of  the  border,  the  story  current 
there  was,  that  a Mexican  belonging  to  one  of  the  settle- 
ments down  below  had  quarrelled  with  a Ute  about  a 
squaw, -and  wound  up  by  killing  him;  that  the  Utes 
were  consequently  up  in  arms,  stealing  stock  and  murder- 
ing the  inhabitants ; that  Fort  Garland  was  already 
practically  besieged  ; and  that  the  United  States  was  of 
“ no  account,  no  how,”  because  we  did  not  send  more 
troops  to  Colorado.  However,  we  started  for  Garland, 
well-armed  as  above ; we  did  not  meet  a hostile  Indian 
on  the  way ; and  when  we  arrived  there,  we  found  there 
hadn’t  been  a settler  molested,  or  mule  stolen ; and  the 
whole  yarn  had  come  from  a Ute  found  dead,  supposed 
killed  by  lightning.  When  first  discovered,  near  one 
of  the  settlements,  the  Utes  were  considerably  ruffled ; 
but  when  the  post-surgeon  at  Garland  and  their  medi- 
cine-man had  examined  him  and  found  no  marks  of 
violence,  the  chiefs  laid  their  heads  together  and  sagely 
concluded  the  Great  Spirit  had  called  him. 

Our  course  from  Denver  was  about  due  South, 
following  the  trend  of  the  mountains,  and  always  near 
therr.  For  several  days  our  road  was  substantially  over 
Fremont’s  old  trail  of  1843,  across  the  high  “divide” 
between  the  Platte  and  Arkansas,  and  so  down  the 
dashing  Fontaine  qui  Boulli  to  the  Arkansas.  This 
“ divide”  bears  an  unenviable  reputation,  as  a storm- 
region.  Coloradoans  aver,  that  it  rains,  hails,  snows,  or 
blows  there,  when  it  is  fair  weather  all  around  it,  and  we 
were  wrarned  of  it  accordingly.  It  is  a high  rolling 


78 


THE  BUTTE  REGION 


region,  running  well  up  into  the  mountains,  with  Pike’s 
Peak  frowning  over  it,  and  I suppose  the  configuration 
of  the  country  is  such  as  to  attract  and  concentrate 
storms  there.  We  made  haste  to  get  across  it,  but  sure 
enough  encountered  both  rain  and  hail,  though  we  found 
the  country  both  north  and  south  of  it  basking  in  a 
dreamy,  autumnal  atmosphere,  that  seemed  like  the  very 
wTine  of  life.  That  night  we  camped  near  “ Dirty 
Woman’s  Ranch,”  close  into  the  mountains,  and  slept 
delightfully  in  a hay-vard.  The  sun  went  down  in  a 
cloudless  sky,  transfiguring  the  snow-clad  summit  of 
Pike’s  Peak  with  a glory  all  its  own,  whose  pink  and 
crimson  faded  into  purple,  and  this  again  to  blue,  as  the 
day  died  out.  So,  too,  the  rest  of  the  range,  from  purple 
and  blue,  came  out  sharp  and  black  against  the  star-thick 
sky,  and  night  shut  down  upon  the  Plains  with  scarcely 
a sound  to  break  the  silence. 

During  the  dav,  the  blank  monotonv  of  the  Plains 
was  broken  by  numerous  “ buttes,”  some  of  which  were 
very  surprising.  The  chief  one,  “ Castle-Rock,”  was  an 
abrupt  precipitous  mass,  well  bastioned  and  castellated, 
that  rose  sheer  into  the  air  several  hundred  feet,  as  if 
the  work  of  hammer  and  trowel.  At  a distance,  it 
seemed  almost  squarely  perpendicular,  but  two  of  our 
party,  who  had  galloped  on  ahead,  found  an  accessible 
path  to  the  summit  on  its  southeast  side.  As  we  drove 
up  abreast  of  it,  we  descried  them  on  its  dizzy  edge,  but 
took  them  to  be  eagles  or  buzzards,  until  they  out  with 
their  handkerchiefs  and  fired  off  their  pistols.  The  smoke 
curled  away  on  the  breezy  air,  but  the  sound  was 
inaudible  down  by  the  roadside  as  wTe  drove  by.  These 
“buttes”  dot  the  country  over  there  for  miles,  standing 
solitary  and  alone — wholly  disconnected  from  each  other 
— and  are  a strange  feature  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
region. 


GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS— 


79 


The  next  day  we  struck  Monument  Creek  and  fol- 
lowed this  down  to  the  Fontaine  qui  Bouilli.  Here  the 
country  for  miles  is  marked  by  great  masses  of  sandstone 
and  limestone,  chiseled  by  wind  and  rain  into  the  most 
fantastic  shapes  and  forms.  Some  are  slender  columns  of 
gray  or  red  rock,  a hundred  feet  or  more  in  height,  worn 
and  smooth ; while  others  are  cut  and  carved  so  curiously, 
that  it^eems  they  must  be  the  deft  handiwork  of  man. 
Eight  under  the  shadow  of  Pike’s  Peak,  they  seem  to 
culminate,  and  here  is  Colorado’s  famous  Garden  of  the 
Gods.  Entering  from  the  roadside  we  passed  through 
a little  ravine,  that  rapidly  widened  into  a bijou  of  a valley, 
and  there  near  its  centre  uprose  two  tremendous  rocks, 
red  dashed  with  gray,  six  hundred  feet  long  by  two 
hundred  high,  tapering  to  a knife-like  edge.  They  were 
both  inaccessible  to  man,  but  the  elements  had  bored  a 
hole  through  the  summit  of  one,  that  looked  for  all  the 
world  as  if  a round  shot  or  shell  had  knocked  its  way 
through  there.  A score  of  swallows  were  twittering  about 
this,  as  we  passed  by,  and  their  nests  were  visible  all  up 
and  down  the  rocks.  A little  distance  off  stood  three  red 
sandstones,  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  diameter,  by  a hundred 
or  more  high,  like  the  surviving  columns  of  some  ruined 
temple — one  somewhat  splintered  and  shattered,  but  the 
others  still  uplifting  their  capitals  sublime  against  the 
sky.  Farther  on  the  whole  country  here  is  studded  for 
miles,  with  these  wedge-shaped  and  columnar  masses  of 
red  and  gray  rock,  some  even  on  a grander  scale,  as 
though  it  were  a cemetery  of  Titans,  marked  by  Cyclopean 
tombstones.  It  is  a vast  meadow,  rich  with  herbage, 
with  Monument  Creek  meandering  through  it,  vocal 
with  the  song  of  birds,  the  whole  lying  close  up  under 
the  overshadowing  Mountains  ; while  over  all,  breaking 
sharp  and  clear  against  the  faultless  sky,  stands  Pike's 


80 


NATURAL  SODA  SPRINGS 


Peak,  imperial  in  his  majesty,  dark  below  with  pines  and 
firs,  but  his  bald  head  crowned  with  eternal  snows, 
looking  calmly  down,  as  if  God’s  sentinel  keeping  watch 
and  ward  over  all  below.  Altogether  the  grouping  of 
the  landscape  there  is  very  fine,  as  if  the  gods  had  done 
their  best ; and  on  the  glorious  morning  when  we  saw  it, 
beneath  a perfect  September  sky,  we  thought  Colorado 
had  indeed  here  much  to  be  supremely  proud  of. 

Some  three  miles  farther  on,  near  the  banks  of  the 
Fontaine  qul  Bouilli , which  here  comes  boiling  down 
from  the  foot  of  Pike’s  Peak,  there  are  several  fine  natu- 
ral soda-springs.  They  come  bubbling  up  on  either  side 
of  the  stream  from  the  far  depths  below,  and  their  over- 
flow during  the  long  ages  has  deposited  large  rocks  of 
calcareous  tufa  or  carbonate  of  soda  all  about  them.  We 
tried  this  soda-water,  and  found  it  as  cool,  and  as  sharp 
and  titillating  as  that  from  a city -fountain  ; and  when 
treated  with  an  acid,  it  effervesced  and  vanished  quite  as 

freely.  H and  B tried  it  with  lemons  and 

whiskey  and  reported  their  cocktails  quite  unequalled 
since  leaving  New  York.  Col.  Chivington,  of  Sand  Creek 
memory,  had  recently  purchased  these  springs  and  the 
land  adjacent  for  three  thousand  dollars ; but  he  was  now 
asking  ten  thousand,  though  there  had  not  been  a dollar 
expended  for  improvements  yet.  Combined  with  Pike’s 
Peak,  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  and  all  the  unique  and 
romantic  scenery  from  there  to  Denver,  as  well  as  the 
general  Plains  and  Mountains,  the  investment  did  not 
seem  to  be  a bad  one,  and  no  doubt  will  pay  handsomely 
some  day.  But  it  was  then  waiting  the  completion  of 
the  Pacific  Railroad,  and  the  in-pouring  of  population, 
that  all  Coloradoans  then  devoutly  hoped  and  prayed  for.* 

* I believe  these  are  now  called  Colorado  Springs,  and  much 
resorted  to,  and  Manitou  is  somewhere  about  the  Garden  of  the  Gods. 


COLORADO*  CITY 


81 


Just  beyond  the  Soda  Springs,  stood  or  rather  slept 
Colorado  City.  We  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  break 
our  ambulance  tongue  in  pulling  out  of  a mud-hole,  and 
halted  there  to  have  a new  one  made.  In  the  days  of 
1857-60,  when  mining  centred  at  Pike’s  Peak,  Colorado 
City  was  the  Denver  of  southwestern  Colorado,  and 
must  have  been  a place  of  considerable  importance. 
But  tjie  “ diggings”  there  long  since  gave  out,  and  C.  C. 
was  now  in  a bad  way.  Corner-lots  were  for  sale,  dirt- 
cheap.  It  had  plenty  of  empty  shanties,  but  scarcely 
any  population  ; and  what  it  had,  were  the  sleepiest-look- 
ing  Coloradoans  we  had  yet  seen  anywhere.  The 
“ hotel”  or  tavern,  was  forlorn  and  dirty ; the  people,  idle 
and  listless ; and  the  “ City,”  as  a whole,  was  evidently 
hastening  fast  to  the  status  of  Goldsmith’s  Deserted 
Village.  Canon  City,  farther  up  in  the  mountains,  they 
told  us,  was  even  worse  off — having  no  inhabitants  at  all. 
It  had  good  buildings,  some  even  of  brick  and  stone, 
equal  indeed  to  any  in  Colorado ; but  all  stood  empty, 
like  “some  banquet-hall  deserted,”  and  the  once  busy 
“ City”  was  now  as  silent  as  Thebes  or  Petroe.  Such  is 
life  in  our  mining  regions.  Population  comes  and  goes, 
as  restless  as  the  sea,  according  as  the  “ diggings”  promise 
good  “ pay-dirt”  or  bad.  And  what  are  prosperous  and 
busy  centres  this  year,  next  year  may  become  empty  and 
deserted.*  At  sunset  we  went  into  camp  on  the  banks 
of  the  Fontaine  qui  Bouilli , while  a snow-squall  was 
careering  around  Pike’s  Peak.  Several  of  these  had 
been  prancing  about  his  summit  during  the  afternoon, 
and  about  five  p.  m.,  one  of  them  swept  down  over  the 

* The  Denver  and  Santa  Fe  narrow-gauge  railroad,  now  in  opera- 
tion, following  the  mountains  down,  has  doubtless  done  much  to 
revive  and  stimulate  this  whole  region  again.  But  it  halts,  I believe 
at  Pueblo  for  the  present. 

4* 


82 


COLORADO  FARMING 


foothills  and  valley,  with  far  out-stretched  wings,  giving 
us  a taste  of  its  icy  breath  as  we  journeyed  by.  At  sun- 
set the  hues  along  the  mountains  and  among  the  snow- 
peaks  were  magnificent  and  glorious  ; but  the  air  became 
keen  and  nipping  as  night  fell,  and  all  the  evening  we 
hugged  the  fire  closely.  Just  before  dark,  while  supper 
was  cooking,  two  or  three  of  us  tried  the  Fontaine  qui 
Bouilli  for  trout,  and  caught — not  a nibble  even  ! 

Soon  after  leaving  Colorado  City  the  mountains  trend 
away  to  the  southwest,  while  the  road  to  Fort  Garland 
continues  on  down  the  Fontaine  qui  Bouilli  to  the 
Arkansas.  Fording  this  at  Pueblo,  and  subsequently  its 
two  affluents,  the  Greenhorn  and  the  Huerfano,  you 
again  strike  the  mountains,  a hundred  miles  farther 
south,  at  the  foot  of  Sangre  del  Christo  Pass.  The  high 
ridges  or  “divides”  between  all  of  these  streams  are 
barren  and  sterile,  to  an  extent  little  imagined  in  the 
east ; but  the  streams  themselves  are  bordered  by  broad 
valleys,  rich  and  fertile,  that  as  a rule  need  only  irri- 
gation to  produce  luxuriantly.  In  some  seasons  they  do 
not  require  even  this,  as  their  proximity  to  the  moun- 
tains affords  them  rains  enough.  Still,  no  farmer  is  safe 
there  without  his  system  of  acequias  or  water-ditches,  to 
irrigate  if  necessary ; and  we  found  these  everywhere 
constructed,  if  not  in  use,  where  settlements  had  been 
made.  In  all  of  these  valleys  we  already  had  scattered 
ranches — some  of  them  very  large — and  raised  wheat, 
barley,  corn,  oats,  etc.  in  considerable  quantities.  Col- 
orado had  formerly  imported  all  her  grain  and  flour 
from  the  Missouri,  at  an  enormous  cost ; but  latterly  she 
had  drawn  large  supplies  from  these  fertile  valleys,  and 
in  ’66  considered  herself  about  self-sustaining.  Not 
more  than  one-tenth,  or  less,  of  her  arable  land  here, 
however,  seemed  to  be  under  cultivation,  and  agricul- 


ZAN  HINCKLIN’S  ESTATE — 


83 


ture  even  then  was  of  the  rudest  and  simplest.  The 
ranchemen  were  mainly  Americans  or  Germans,  but  the 
labor  was  all  performed  by  Mexican  peons,  subjected  for 
generations  to  but  one  remove  from  slavery.  It  was  the 
threshing  season,  and  in  many  places  we  saw  them  tread- 
ing out  their  wheat  and  barley  by  mules,  wTith  a Greaser 
on  the  back  of  each,  lazily  whiffing  his  cigarrito,  while 
his  donkey  dozed  around.  Elsewhere,  their  threshing 
done,  we  saw  them  winnowing  their  grain  by  hand,  as  the 
breeze  chanced  along.  We  did  not  see  or  hear  of  a 
threshing-machine  or  a fanning-mill  in  the  whole  region 
there,  and  doubt  if  there  was  one.  The  Mexicans  do 
not  comprehend  these  nineteenth  century  new-fangled 
notions,  and  will  have  none  of  them.  They  prefer  by 
far  their  old-time  dolce  far  niente.  Festina  lente  is 
their  national  maxim,  and  your  thorough-bred  peon 
would  choose  a broncho  rather  than  a locomotive  any 
day.  And  naturally  enough,  the  American  settlers  here, 
we  found,  were  mostly  from  the  south,  and  during  the 
war  had  been  none  too  ardent  for  the  Union. 

Most  of  the  farms  here  were  large  in  size,  and  in 
crossing  the  Greenhorn  we  passed  through  a noble 
ranch,  twelve  miles  wide  by  eighteen  long,  owned  by  a 
Mr.  Zan  Hincklin.  In  ’65  he  sold  his  crop  of  grain  for 
eighty  thousand  dollars,  and  in  ’66  expected  to  do  even 
better.  He  had  on  hand  a thousand  horses,  three  thou- 
sand head  of  cattle,  and  six  thousand  sheep,  all  of  which 
he  grazed  the  year  round.  He  lived  very  plainly,  in  a 
rude  adobe  hut,  that  we  should  think  hardly  fit  for  a 
canal-laborer  east ; but  was  as  hospitable  and  generous 
as  a prince.  We  had  scarcely  gone  into  camp,  on  the 
banks  of  the  rippling  Greenhorn,  before  he  sent  us  over 
butter,  eggs,  and  vegetables,  and  bade  us  welcome  to  his 
heart  and  home.  He  acquired  his  great  estate  by  marry- 


I 


84  SANGRE  DEL  CHRISTO  PASS 

ing  one  of  the  half-breed  daughters  of  the  celebrated 
John  Brent,  who  used  to  hunt  and  trap  all  through  this 
region,  and  who  lived  so  long  among  the  Indians  that  he 
became  himself  half  Bed-Skin.  He  died  possessed  of  vast 
tracts  of  land  here,  acquired  chiefly  through  trading 
with  the  Indians,  but  his  children  it  appeared,  as  a rule, 
had  turned  out  poorly.  One  of  his  sons  had  returned  to 
Indian  life,  joining  a wandering  tribe,  and  others  still 
hung  about  the  settlements,  of  small  account  to  anybody. 

From  the  Arkansas,  the  country  gradually  but  con- 
stantly ascends,  until  you  strike  the  mountains  again  at 
the  foot  of  Sangre  del  Christo  Pass.  Here  you  follow 
up  a dashing  rivulet,  that  courses  away  to  the  Huerfano, 
and  advantage  is  taken  of  a depression  in  the  main 
ridge  to  cross  into  San  Luis  Park.  We  camped  the 
night  before  in  a sheltered  nook  among  the  foot-hills, 
surrounded  on  three  sides  by  gnarled  pi  non  trees,  while 
the  fourth  opened  on  a little  plateau  sloping  down  to  a 
noisy  brook,  that  afforded  water  and  grass  in  abundance. 
The  next  morning  we  breakfasted  early,  and  were  off  up 
the  Pass  soon  after  sunrise.  The  morning  air  was 
nipping,  and  as  we  advanced  we  found  the  mists  rolling 
down  the  mountains,  and  so  off  over  the  Plains  eastward. 
The  teams  being  a little  slow  that  morning  in  packing 
up  and  getting  off,  some  of  us  concluded  to  walk  on  ; 
but  we  had  not  proceeded  far,  before  some  one  suggested 
this  might  be  dangerous,  as  Indians  were  reported  about, 
and  our  arms  were  all  behind  in  the  ambulances. 
Halting,  therefore,  for  the  rest  to  come  up,  two  of  us 
then  secured  our  Spencers  and  six-shooters,  and  mount- 
ing one  a horse  and  the  other  a mule  pushed  on  ahead 
again.  The  ascent,  though  gentle,  we  found  nevertheless 
very  constant,  and  gradually  the  ambulances  dropped 
much  behind.  The  road  led  over  a shelving  plateau, 


GRAND  AND  SUBLIME  VIEWS 


85 


and  up  a pretty  sharp  hill,  and  then  plunged  by  a rapid 
descent  into  a little  valley  again.  Here  we  met  several 
men,  with  a drove  of ‘indifferent  cattle  and  sheep,  en 
route  from  Culebra  to  Denver  and  a market.  Climbing 
out  of  this  valley,  we  struck  a sharp  ascent,  that  led 
southward  along  and  up  the  ridge,  and  then  turning 
west  by  south  struck  straight  across  the  summit.  As 
we  raised  the  summit,  a keen,  fierce  wind  met  us  from 
the  west,  and  soon  set  our  teeth  to  chattering  in  unison 
with  it.  On  the  tip-top  we  found  a contractor’s  train, 
en  route  to  Fort  Garland  with  supplies,  doubling  up 
ox-teams  and  doing  its  “ level  best  ” to  forge  slowly 
ahead.  The  summit  or  ridge,  the  tip-top  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains — the  very  backbone  of  America  here — we 
found  only  a few  hundred  yards  across ; and  then  we 
came  out  on  the  western  slope,  with  all  the  glories  of 
the  San  Luis  Park  nestling  at  our  feet,  or  uprising 
gorgeously  before  us.  Below,  the  Park  lay  wrapped  in 
a dreamy  haze,  with  the  Sangre  del  Christo  creek  flash- 
ing onward  through  it ; above,  peak  on  peak — huge, 
snow-white,  and  sublime — rimmed  it  round,  as  with  a 
crown.  Over  all,  hung  one  of  those  blue  and  faultless 
skies,  for  which  the  Pocky  Mountains  are  so  world- 
famous,  with  the  sun  sweeping  majestically  through  it, 
while  God  himself  seemed  ready  to  speak  on  every  side. 
This  was  to  the  west.  Turning  to  the  east,  the  view 
there  seemed,  if  possible,  even  more  grand  and  sublime. 
Peak  and  ridge,  plateau  and  foot-hill,  stretched  away 
beneath  us ; in  the  distance  the  brace  of  Spanish  Peaks, 
two  bold  u buttes”  passed  the  day  before,  shot  up 
abruptly  six  thousand  feet  into  the  sky,  from  the  dead 
level  of  the  Plains  around  them ; while  beyond  and 
around  to  the  dim  horizon,  east,  north,  and  south,  for 
hundreds  of  miles,  outstretched  the  illimitable  Plains. 


86 


ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  SCENERY 


The  elevation  of  the  Pass  is  given,  as  about  ten  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea.  At  our  feet,  the  fog  was  breaking 
up  and  rolling  off  eastward  in  sullen  masses,  which  the 
morning  sun  gilded  with  glory,  or  here  and  there 
pierced  through  and  through  down  to  the  earth  beneath. 
Soon  it  passed  away  into  airy  clouds,  careering  along 
the  sky,  and  presently  vanished  altogether.  And  then 
the  Plains!  The  Plains!  How  their  immense  out- 
stretch absorbed  and  overwhelmed  the  eye ! It  was  not 
the  ocean,  but  something  much  grander  and  vaster,  than 
even  the  ocean  seems.  If  you  could  view  the  sea  from 
the  same  altitude,  doubtless  the  impression  would  be 
much  the  same.  But  what  is  the  loftiest  mast-head, 
compared  with  the  summit  of  Sangre  del  Christo  ? The 
grandeur  and  sublimity  of  the  scene  awed  one  into 
silence,  as  if  in  the  presence  of  Deity  himself,  and  the 
great  and  holy  thoughts  of  that  hour  well  repaid  us  for 
all  our  toil  and  fatigue.  Say  what  we  may,  there  is 
something  gracious  and  ennobling  in  such  mountain 
scenery,  which  men  can  illy  dispense  with.  How  it 
deepens  and  widens  one’s  feelings ! How  it  broadens 
and  uplifts  one’s  thoughts ! How  it  strengthens — 
emboldens — one’s  manhood!  What  Switzerland  is  to 
Europe,  and  Hew  England  to  the  Atlantic  States,  this 
and  more,  the  whole  Pocky  Mountain  region  will  yet 
become  to  America. 

Descending  the  mountains  westward,  a ride  of  a mile 
or  two  brought  us  to  a spring,  where  a Mexican  was 
taking  his  noon-day  meal  of  tortillas,  while  his  inevita- 
ble mule  was  cropping  the  grass  nearby.  II.  dis- 
mounted and  scooped  up  a drink  with  his  hands,  Indian 
fashion,  but  I was  not  yet  thirsty  enough  for  that.  A 
mile  or  two  farther,  still  descending,  brought  us  to  the 
head  of  Sangre  del  Christo  creek,  a dashing  rivulet  fed 


A CORKSCREW  CREEK — 


87 


by  snow  streams,  that  runs  thence  to  the  Rio  Grande.  A 
winding  defile  or  canon,  of  steady  though  not  very  rapid 
descent,  affords  a bed-way  down  the  Pass  and  out  into 
the  San  Luis  Park,  and  down  this  the  wild  little  creek 
shoots  very  serpentinely.  It  crosses  the  road  no  less  than 
twenty-six  times  in  ten  miles,  and  constantly  reminds 
you  of  the  famous  Yankee  fence,  which  was  made  up  of 
such  crooked  rails,  that  when  the  pigs  crept  through  it 
they  never  exactly  knew  whether  they  were  inside  or  out ! 
We  jogged  leisurely  down  the  creek,  until  we  judged  we 
were  some  six  or  seven  miles  from  the  summit,  and 
perhaps  half  way  down  the  mountain,  when  we  halted 
for  the  teams  to  come  up,  The  wind  blew  sharply  up  the 
Pass  still,  though  it  was  now  much  after  noon,  and  we 
found  the  shelter  of  a neighboring  ravine  very  welcome. 
Here  we  unsaddled  our  animals,  and  turned  them  loose 
to  graze.  They  fed  up  and  down  the  ravine,  cropping 
the  rich  herbage  there,  but  would  never  stray  over  a 
hundred  yards  pr  so  away,  when  they  would  turn  and  graze 
back  to  us  again.  On  such  mountain  trips  saddle-animals 
become  attached  to  their  riders,  and  will  seldom  leave  of 
their  own  accord.  So,  also,  they  are  unerring  sentinels, 
and  always  announce  the  approach  of  Indians  or  others 
with  a neigh  or  bray.  Building  a royal  fire  with  the  dry 
fir-trees  there,  we  next  spread  our  saddle-blankets  on  the 
ground,  and  then  with  our  saddles  under  our  heads,  and 
our  feet  Indian-fashion  to  the  fire,  smoked  and  talked 
until  the  rest  arrived.  About  two  p.  m.  I noticed  Kate 
(my  mule)  stop  grazing  and  snuff  the  air,  very  inquir- 
ingly ; presently,  with  a whisk  of  her  tail  and  a salutatory 
bray,  she  darted  down  the  ravine,  as  if  thoroughly  satis- 
fied ; and  in  a minute  or  two  along  came  the  ambulances, 
with  our  friends  chilled  through,  despite  their  robes  and 
blankets.  All  tumbled  out  to  stretch  their  benumbed 


88 


TROUT  FISHING 


limbs,  and  we  ate  lunch  around  our  impromptu  fire 
grouped  very  picturesquely. 

Meanwhile  about  everybody  nearly  had  got  “ trout 
on  the  brain.”  We  had  caught  frequent  glimpses  of 
the  speckled  beauties,  as  we  crossed  Sangre  del  Christo 
creek  or  rode  along  its  banks,  and  concluded  to  go  into 
camp  early,  so  as  to  try  our  luck  with  a fly  or  two.  A 
good  camping  place  wras  found  a mile  or  two  farther  on, 
near  the  foot  of  the  Pass,  and  here  while  supper  was  pre- 
paring, several  of  us  rigged  up  our  lines  and  started  off. 
H.  and  I were  most  unfortunate;  we  whipped  the 
stream  up  and  down  quite  a distance,  but  came  back 
fishless.  H.  caught  a bite,  and  I several  nibbles,  but 
neither  of  us  landed  a trout.  We  could  see  plenty  of 
them,  young  dandies,  darting  about  in  the  black  pools, 
or,  old  fogies,  floating  along  by  the  banks;  but  they 
were  Arcadian  in  their  tastes,  and  disdained  the  fancy 
flies  we  threw  them.  Dr.  M.  and  L.,  however, 
had  better  luck.  The  spirit  of  good  Isaak  Walton 
seemed  to  rest  upon  and  abide  with  them.  They  caught 
a dozen  or  more,  of  handsome  mountain  trout,  weighing 
from  two  to  three  pounds  each,  and  the  next  morning 
when  brought  on  our  rude  table  for  breakfast,  hot  and 
smoking  from  the  fire,  nothing  could  have  been  more 
savory  and  delicious.  Gen.  B.  and  L.  turned  cooks 
for  the  occasion,  and  judged  by  the  result  Delinonieo 
might  have  envied  them.  Their  broiled  trout,  fresh 
from  the  brook  and  now  piping  hot,  buttered  and  steam- 
ing, assailed  both  eye  and  palate  at  once,  and  we 
awarded  them  the  palm,  nein.  con. 

The  wTeather  that  day,  from  noon  on,  had  grown 
steadily  colder,  though  the  sun  shone  unclouded  most  of 
the  time,  and  before  we  got  our  camp  well  pitched  a 
snow-squall  struck  us.  The  flakes  came  thick  and  fast 


MEXICAN  EMIGRANTS 


89 


for  awhile,  but  presently  passed  away,  though  more  or 
less  continued  sifting  downward  until  nightfall.  Farther 
up  the  Pass,  around  the  crest  of  the  mountains,  snow- 
squalls  marched  and  countermarched  most  of  the  after- 
noon, and  at  sunset  the  air  grew  nippingly  cold,  even 
down  where  we  were.  We  soon  pitched  our  tent,  and 
built  a glorious  fire  in  front  of  it ; but  that  not  sufficing, 
supper  once  over,  we  carried  our  sheet-iron  cooking-stove 
inside,  and  all  huddled  about  that.  When  bed-time  came, 
blankets,  buffalo-robes  and  great-coats  were  all  in  demand  ; 
yet  in  spite  of  all,  wre  passed  a sorry  night  of  it,  and  morn- 
ing dawned  at  last  greatly  to  our  relief. 

We  reached  Fort  Garland  next  day  (Sept.  20)  about 
one,  p.  m.,  without  meeting  a single  Indian,  either  hostile 
or  friendly.  Denver,  as  before  said,  had  warned  us  to  be 
on  our  guard,  and  we  tried  to  be  ; but  all  reported  dan- 
gers vanished  as  we  advanced — Munchausen  after  Mun- 
chausen exploding  in  turn.  From  the  Huerfano  across 
the  mountains  to  Garland,  some  fifty  miles  or  more,  there 
was  but  a single  ranch,  and  scarcely  anybody  on  the  road. 
A Mexican  on  foot  and  another  on  a donkey  were  emi- 
grating to  the  Huerfano,  and  at  one  point  we  encoun- 
tered a whole  family  similarly  engaged.  Paterfamilias, 
whiffing  his  cigarito,  led  a diminutive  broncho  (Mexican 
for  jackass)  about  the  size  of  a spring  calf,  on  which  sat 
his  household  gods,  to  wit,  his  Senora  also  smoking, 
with  a child  before  and  another  behind  her — all  of  them 
astride.  Another  broncho  of  about  the  same  size  followed 
on  behind,  loaded  down  with  clothing,  bedding,  and 
various  domestic  utensils  until  there  was  but  little  to  be 
seen  of  him  except  his  legs.  What  the  locomotive  is  to 
the  Yankee,  and  the  horse  to  the  borderer,  that  the 
broncho  is  to  the  Mexican,  and  the  two  seem  alike  fitted 
for  each  other  and  inseparable.  His  patient  little  beast 


90 


SAN  LUIS  DE  CULEBRA — 


costs  but  little,  and  when  stopping  browses  by  the  way- 
side  the  best  it  may,  while  Don  Quixote  himself  sits 
basking  in  the  sunshine.  The  serene  and  infinite  content 
of  a Mexican  peon,  as  he  sits  thus  wrapped  in  his 
poncho  or  serape,  sucking  his  everlasting  cigarrito,  no 
American  can  imagine.  His  dignity  is  as  perfect  as  that 
of  a Castilian ; but  the  stolidity  of  his  brain,  who  shall 
describe  ? 

Some  fifteen  miles  or  so  from  Fort  Garland,  in  the 
heart  of  the  San  Luis  Park,  lies  San  Luis  de  Culebra,  a 
hamlet  of  five  or  six  hundred  people,  and  I believe,  the 
most  considerable  “ city,”  there.  You  strike  the  Park 
proper  some  distance  east  of  Fort  Garland,  and  from  there 
to  Culebra  the  country  is  substantially  a dead-level.  Cu- 
lebra  was  then  a genuine  Mexican  town  without  an  atom 
of  the  Yankee  in  or  about  it,  and  seemed  a thousand  years 
old,  it  was  so  sleepy,  though  comparatively  a new  settle- 
ment. Its  houses  were  all  one-story  adobes,  with  chim- 
neys in  the  corner,  in  the  true  Mexican  style,  and  were' 
all  grouped  about  a central  “ plaza,”  of  course,  or  the 
town  would  not  be  Mexican.  All  Southern  Colorado,  it 
will  be  remembered,  formerly  belonged  to  New  Mexico, 
and  hence  these  Mexican  settlements  here  and  beyond. 
The  people  raised  wheat,  barley,  and  oats  to  some  extent ; 
but  depended  on  their  flocks  and  herds  chiefly  for  sup- 
port. We  entered  Culebra  at  dark,  amidst  a multitudi- 
nous chorus  of  dogs,  and  halted  at  the  house  of  Capt.  D. 
a bright  German,  formerly  an  officer  of  New  Mexican 
Volunteers,  but  who  had  recently  married  a Culebra 
senorita  and  settled  there.  He  gave  us  an  excellent  sup- 
per, after  which  we  all  adjourned  to  a “ bailie,”  or  Mexi- 
can Ball,  gotten  up  especially  in  honor  of  Gen.  Sherman 
and  Gov.  Gumming,  but  which  Sherman  was  unable  to 
attend.  Several  of  his  staff-officers,  however,  and  the 


A MEXICAN  BAILLE — 


91 


governor  were  present,  and  these  with  the  rest  of  us 
made  up  quite  a party.  These  bailies  are  great  institu- 
tions among  the  New  Mexicans,  who  retain  all  the  old 
Spanish  fondness  for  music  and  dancing,  and  are  ready 
for  a “ bailie/’  any  time.  The  Culebrans  had  already  had 
two  or  three  that  week,  but  got  up  the  Sherman-Cum- 
ming  one  on  short  notice  and  in  grand  style.  The  only 
thing  necessary  was  to  engage  a room  and  music,  and 
send  a runner  through  the  village,  to  announce  a bailie 
was  on  the  tapis,  and  the  whole  population — men,  women, 
children,  dogs,  and  fleas — were  sure  to  be  there.  At  the 
primitive  hour  of  eight  p.  m.  the  people  began  to  assem- 
ble, and  by  nine  p.  m.  the  bailie  was  in  full  blast.  The 
ball-room  itself  was  an  adobe  building,  one-story  high, 
perhaps  fifty  feet  long  by  thirty  wide,  with  a dirt  floor, 
and  seats  all  around.  At  the  farther  end  was  a rude  bar, 
with  a transparency  over  it,  bearing  the  motto,  “Lim- 
onade  and  Egg-nog,”  at  which  each  cavalier  was 
expected  to  treat  his  lady  from  time  to  time.  Near 
this  was  a rough  platform  for  the  musicians,  who  con- 
sisted of  three  or  four  violinists,  led  by  an  irrepressible 
guitarist — blind  and  quite  a character  in  his  way.  As 
the  evening  progressed,  he  worked  himself  up  into  an 
ecstacy  of  enthusiasm,  and  then,  with  his  eyes  “in  flue 
phrensy  rolling,’’  improvised  wrords  to  every  piece  they 
played.  He  appeared  perfectly  absorbed  and  carried  aw’ay 
wdth  playing  and  singing,  and  when  a dance  ended  seemed 
quite  exhausted.  No  bone-ist,  or  tambourine-ist,  in  a 
troupe  of  minstrels  east,  ever  performed  with  more  thor- 
ough and  reckless  abandon.  Ilis  head  wras  thrown  back ; 
his  eye-balls  rolled  wdldly : his  coarse,  matted,  coal-black 
hair  swTept  his  shoulders : his  long  and  bony  fingers 
fairly  flew  up  and  down  his  quivering  guitar : wdiile  his 
shrill,  piping,  tenor  voice  rose  and  fell  above  the  music,  in 


92 


SEN0RS  AND  SENORITAS 


thorough  unison  with  the  general  scene.  Later  in  the 
evening,  after  frequent  potations  of  egg-nog,  Don  Jesus, 
(for  that  was  his  name)  became  immensely  funny,  and  his 
gyrations  amused  us  greatly. 

With  the  first  sound  of  the  violins,  the  couples  took 
the  floor,  and  kept  it  up  vigorously  to  the  “ wee  sma’ 
hours.”  The  older  people  participated  less,  but  young 
and  old  were  all  there,  apparently  the  whole  population, 
in  their  best  “ bib  and  tucker.”  Women  came  carrying 
their  infants,  and  others  held  the  babies  while  their  mothers 
danced.  The  younger  people,  down  to  mere  boys  and 
girls,  of  course,  all  danced.  First  came  some  slow, 
stately  Spanish  dances ; but  presently  they  slid  into 
schottisches  and  polkas,  and  performed  these  with  a vigor 
worthy  of  New  York  or  Paris.  Many  present  were 
dressed  humbly,  and  but  few  comparatively  were  wTell 
dressed ; but  ornaments  abounded,  and  the  bailie  or 
fandango  seemed  to  put  all  on  an  equality.  Most  of  our 
party  selected  partners,  and  soon  were  lost  in  the  maze  and 
whirl.  True,  they  could  not  speak  a word  of  Spanish,  nor 
their  sehoritas  any  English  ; but  that  did  not  matter,  as 
the  Mexicans  regard  it  as  a mark  of  ill-breeding  to  converse 
while  dancing.  Their  manner  of  saluting  each  other, 
when  first  they  met,  was  unique  and  original,  to  wit : 
the  sexes  poked  their  heads  over  each  other’s  shoulders, 
and  took  a good  old  fashioned  hug.  Throughout  the 
evening,  of  course,  there  was  a total  absence  of  inde- 
corum. As  a whole,  they  seemed  to  be  honest,  simple 
folk,  who  took  life  as  it  came,  without  fret  or  worriment, 
and  enjoyed  themselves  greatly.  There  was  less  beauty 
among  the  women,  but  more  intelligence  among  the  men, 
than  we  expected ; their  hospitality  was  hearty  and 
generous — they  did  their  best  to  give  us  a pleasant 
evening ; and  altogether  the  bailie  at  Culebra  was  an 


MEXICAN  BEDS. 


93 


event  long  to  be  remembered.  I left  Gov.  C.  at  11  p. 
m.,  looking  on  and  enjoying  it,  and  went  to  sleep  on  a 
good  wool  bed — the  only  kind  used  there — in  a comfort- 
able room,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  Denver. 


CHAPTER  YII. 


among  the  mountains  ( Continued ). 

RETURNING  next  day  from  Culebra  to  Fort  Gar- 
land, we  proceeded  thence  subsequently  up  the 
Park  to  the  Indian  treaty  on  the  Rio  Grande ; and  from 
there  via  Homan’s  Park  and  Poncho  Pass  north  to  Fair 
Play  in  South  Park.  These  “ parks,”  so  called,  are  a 
peculiar  feature  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  play  an 
important  part  in  the  scenery.  There  are  five  of  them — 
North,  Middle,  South,  Homan’s,  and  San  Luis — of 
which  we  passed  through  the  last  three.  They  consti- 
tute in  reality  a great  system  of  plateaus  or  valleys, 
morticed  as  it  were  into  the  very  heart  of  the  mountains, 
from  twenty-five  to  fifty  miles  long  by  half  as  many  wide, 
disconnected  by  intervening  ranges,  yet  all  alike  in  their 
general  features.  One  of  the  main  ranges  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  bounds  them  on  the  east ; but  the  main  range, 
the  real  Sierra  Nevada  or  Mother  Range — the  great 
Snowy  Range  or  real  water-shed  of  the  continent,  divid- 
ing the  waters  of  the  Pacific  from  those  of  the  Atlantic — 
runs  along  the  west.  True,  this  is  disputed  by  enthusi- 
astic Coloradoans ; but  the  facts  seem  nevertheless,  as 
above.  The  North  Platte,  South  Platte,  Arkansas,  and 
Rio  Grande,  all  take  their  rise  there,  and  piercing  the 
eastern  range  flow  thence  to  the  Atlantic  or  the  Gulf, 
-while  no  considerable  stream  flows  thence  to  the  Pacific. 
Kit  Carson,  wThom  we  met  at  Fort  Garland,  the  best 


SAN  LUIS  PARK 


95 


geographer  of  that  region,  took  this  view  of  the  subject, 
and  I humbly  concur. 

The  largest  of  these  Parks,  by  far,  is  the  San  Luis, 
and  we  found  it  fairly  gridironed  with  trout  streams,  and 
rimmed  around  with  mountains.  Its  general  elevation  is 
from  six  to  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  with  its 
surrounding  peaks  and 'ridges  about  as  much  more,  which 
is  too  cold  for  Indian  corn,  though  the  other  cereals — 
such  as  wheat,  barley,  oats,  etc. — may  readily  be  grown 
there.  Volcanic  agencies  have  had  much  to  do  with  its 
formation,  as  its  wide-spread  igneous  rocks  and  pebbles 
still  plainly  show.  Along  the  Rio  Grande  and  its  numer- 
ous affluents  wide  bottoms  have  been  formed,  that  are 
very  rich — the  very  washings  of  the  mountains ; but  else- 
where  you  have  only  rocks  and  gravel,  sage-brush  and 
grease-wood.  It  contains  no  timber,  except  a fringe  of 
cottonwoods  and  poplars  along  most  of  the  larger 
streams ; but  cedar,  pine,  and  ffr  are  found  in  the  neigh- 
boring canons  and  mountains.  Cattle  and  other  live 
stock  find  good  grazing  in  summer  along  the  streams, 
and  in  winter  they  were  said  to  thrive  well  on  the 
coarse  bunch-grass,  with  which  the  surrounding  canons 
all  abound.  The  broad  bottoms  of  the  Rio  Grande,  wav- 
ing with  tall  grass  and  fatter  than  the  prairies  of  Illinois, 
ought  to  make  magnificent  meadows,  and  will  some  day 
when  more  of  our  Anglo-Saxon  population  overflows 
there.  The  population  of  the  Park  was  grouped  mainly  in 
two  or  three  Mexican  hamlets,  and  wras  computed  by  Kit 
Carson  (then  Colonel  of  New  Mexico  Volunteers  and 
Post  Commandant  at  Fort  Garland)  at  about  five  or  six 
thousand  only.  A noted  citizen  of  Denver,  who  owned 
a large  part  of  the  Park,  had  reported  it  to  us  as  about 
twenty  thousand.  Not  that  he  intended  to  be  inexact; 
but  his  imagination  was  naturally  very  vivid,  and  his  lan- 


96 


TROUT  FISHING  AGAIN — 


guage  apt  to  be  poetic.  In  purchasing  property  there, 
under  an  old  Spanish  grant,  he  certainly  acquired  any 
quantity  of  magnificent  mountain,  and  a wide  stretch  of 
plain  ; but  we  suspected,  he  would  wait  some  time  before 
he  saw  his  money  back  again. 

Our  general  ride  up  the  San  Luis  Park,  and  so 
through  Homan’s  to  Poncho  Pass',  was  unique  and  perfect 
in  its  way.  Our  route  on  leaving  Fort  Garland  was  first 
across  several  mountain  brooks,  where  the  trout  were  so 
abundant,  that  the  soldiers  at  the  fort  caught  them  with 
blankets  and  feasted  on  them  at  will,  and  then  directly 
up  the  Park,  with  the  Sierra  Blanca  or  Snowy  Range 
towering  on  our  right.  Striking  the  Rio  Grande,  we 
found  it  alive  with  geese  and  ducks,  and  when  we 
went  into  camp,  L.  — our  champion  sportsman  — 
caught  several  noble  trout,  weighing  from  five  to  six 
pounds  each.  Singularly  enough,  the  streams  flowing  to 
the  Rio  Grande  all  abound  in  trout,  while  those  going  to 
the  Mississippi,  we  were  told,  all  lack  them.  We  halted 
two  days  here,  attending  the  Indian  Treaty  before  alluded 
to,  and  then  proceeded  on-.  At  Fort  Garland,  we  were 
advised  to  return  to  Denver  by  the  same  route  we  had 
come,  as  the  season  wTas  already  advancing  and  nobody 
had  come  through  by  Poncho  Pass  since  the  previous 
spring.  Moreover,  the  trail  was  reported  impracticable  for 
ambulances,  and  even  Kit  Carson  shook  his  head,  unless 
we  went  by  pack-mules.  But  as  the  pack-mules  were 
not  to  be  had,  and  we  were  all  averse  to  returning  over 
the  old  route,  we  resolved  to  push  ahead  by  Poncho 
Pass,  and  get  through  the  mountains  that  way,  if  possi- 
ble. From  the  Treaty-Ground,  our  route  lay  nearly  due 
north,  with  the  snowy  crest  and  peaks  of  the  Sierra  Blanca 
on  our  right  and  about  parallel.  Bidding  our  friends 
good-bye,  we  set  out  early  (Sept.  21),  with  the  wind  dead- 


SIERRA  BLANCA 


or 


ahead  and  bitter  cold.  Toward  noon,  the  weather  mode- 
rated somewhat ; but  snow-squalls  chased  each  other  along 
the  mountains  all  day,  and  once  we  counted  nine  in  view 
— one  careering  along  behind  the  other — at  the  same  time. 
Now  and  then  one  would  expand  its  wings,  and  sweep 
across  the  Park ; and  several  times  in  the  course  of  the 
day  we  were  thus  in  the  midst  of  real  winter.  The  range 
10  the  west  was  more  or  less  broken  into  foot-hills  and 
ridges ; but  the  Sierra  Blanca  to  the  right  seemed  a solid 
rampart,  rugged,  inaccessible,  sublime.  Its  serrated  crest, 
white  with  perpetual  snow,  rose  five  or  six  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  Park  $ its  tree-line  was  distinctly 
marked,  as  with  a rule ; and  the  whole  seemed  so  near 
and  so  gorgeous,  when  the  sunset  swallowed  up  the  snow- 
squalls,  that  we  could  scarcely  realize  it  was  yet  miles 
away.  As  we  got  farther  up  the  Park,  the  soil  grew 
thinner,  and  more  volcanic  in  its  origin  ; but  we  crossed 
several  handsome  streams,  that  might  be  made  to  irrigate 
considerable  land  there. 

We  found  only  one  ranch,  however,  north  of  Fort 
Garland — a Mr.  Bussell’s,  at  the  extreme  north-eastern 
end  of  the  Park.  We  camped  there  one  night,  and 
found  the  proprietor  to  be  a good  specimen  of  the  average 
Coloradoan.  Born  in  Illinois  and  bred  a blacksmith,  the 
gold-fever  had  taken  him  to  California,  where  he  worked 
partly  in  the  mines  and  partly  at  his  trade.  When  he 
failed  in  the  mines,  as  he  usually  did,  he  again  resorted 
to  his  trade  ; and  had  he  stuck  to  his  anvil,  he  verily 
believed,  he  would  have  been  well-off  long  before.  But 
as  soon  as  he  had  hammered  out  a little  money,  his  evil 
genius  led  him  back  to  the  “ diggings ; ” and  so  he  had 
wandered  all  up  and  down  our  mining  regions — Califor- 
nia, Nevada,  Colorado,  etc., — until  18G1,  when  he  found 
himself  in  Denver,  without  a cent  in  his  pockets.  Mining 
5 


98 


AN  AVERAGE  BORDERER — 


happened  to  be  dull  there,  a regiment  of  volunteers  was 
then  forming  for  service  against  the  Indians,  and  so  he 
turned  soldier.  Before  his  three  years  were  up,  he  had 
saved  a moderate  “ pile,”  and  when  he  was  finally 
mustered  out  and  discharged,  he  came  here  and 
“ squatted  ” on  a quarter-section.  The  money  saved 
while  thus  soldiering  started  him  in  farming,  and  he  now 
thought  his  future  secure.  This  was  his  first  year  there, 
but  he  had  got  along  very  well  so  far.  The  Indians  had 
not  disturbed  him,  though  frequently  there,  and  his 
Mexican  peons  had  proved  faithful  laborers,  though  a 
little  slow.  He  had  raised  fine  crops  of  oats,  barley,  and 
potatoes,  which  he  would  sell  to  the  garrison  at  Garland 
at  good  prices ; but  his  wheat  was  a failure — he  feared, 
for  want  of  sufficient  warmth.  He  had  a good  adobe 
house,  which  he  meant  to  enlarge  and  improve,  and  a 
fine  flock  of  sheep,  besides  considerable  cattle.  The 
worst  feature  of  his  ranch  was,  that  he  had  to  irrigate ; 
but  he  said  he  had  plenty  of  water  for  this,  and  the  cost 
was  small.  His  nearest  neighbor  was  eighteen  miles  off, 
and  that  was  too  near ; his  post-office,  sixty  miles ; and 
church,  two  hundred.  It  is  strange,  that  men  can  be 
content  to  bury  themselves  thus,  in  the  heart  of  a wilder- 
ness, when  God  and  nature  are  so  bountiful  elsewhere. 
It  is  the  everlasting  itching,  I suppose,  that  we  Ameri- 
cans have  for  change,  which  comes  to  little  good  after 
all.  Ho  doubt  plenty  of  Coloradoans  would  emigrate  to 
the  moon,  or  even  to  Le  Terrier,  if  there  were  a practica- 
ble “ trail  ” there. 

The  next  day  crossing  a low  ridge,  through  a forest 
of  gnarled  cedars,  we  entered  Homan’s  Park,  and  found 
it  to  be  nearly  a duplicate  of  the  San  Luis,  on  a smaller 
scale.  It  is  about  thirty  miles  long,  by  perhaps  half  as 
many  wide,  and  its  essential  features  are  about  the  same 


homan’s  park — 


99 


as  those  of  the  San  Luis,  though  its  soil  seemed  deeper 
and  more  generous.  About  half  way  up,  a lusty  moun- 
tain-stream crosses  from  west  to  east,  lined  with  cotton- 
woods, and  here  four  Germans  had  each  “ pre-empted  ” 
a quarter-section,  all  lying  together.  They  had  all  been 
officers  of  Colorado  Volunteers,  and  when  mustered  out 
came  and  “ squatted  ” here  together,  in  this  picturesque 
little  valley.  The  last  year  of  their  service,  being 
stationed  at  Fort  Garland,  they  had  been  up  that  way 
on  a scout  after  Indians ; and,  falling  in  love  with  the 
Park,  selected  it  for  their  future  homes.  One  of  them 
was  married,  and  his  wife — a tidy  young  German  woman 
— kept  house  for  all.  They  began  operations  the  pre- 
vious year,  and  already  had  accomplished  large  results. 
They  put  in  seven  thousand  dollars  as  joint-capital,  and 
with  this  purchased  all  the  necessary  animals,  implements, 
provisions,  seeds  etc.,  to  start  well  with.  Among  the 
rest,  they  bought  a hundred  and  forty  cows,  which  the 
following  spring  brought  them  in  nearly  as  many  calves, 
all  of  which  they  were  now  raising.  Pasturage  was 
abundant  in  summer,  and  in  the  winter  the  adjoining 
canons  supplied  bunch-grass,  etc.  They  milked  all  their 
cows,  and  converted  the  milk  into  butter  and  cheese, 
which  two  items  alone  had  paid  their  current  expenses 
so  far,  with  a small  margin  over.  A sluice-way  from  the 
brook  carried  the  water  into  their  milk-house,  where 
instead  of  tin  or  earthen  pans,  they  had  long  milk-troughs 
hollowed  out  of  logs,  around  which  the  water  flowed, 
and  then  passed  back  into  the  stream  again.  A bowl  of 
buttermilk,  that  they  tendered  us,  fresh  from  the  churn, 
was  an  unlooked-for  luxury  in  the  heart  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  that  none  of  us  could  refuse.  The  ensuing 
winter  they  proposed  to  build  a water-churn,  and  so 
make  their  friendly  brook  serve  them  still  further. 


100 


ENTERPRISING  GERMANS — 


They  had  had  tolerable  crops  of  barley,  oats,  and 
potatoes,  all  of  which  that  could  be  spared  they  were 
husbanding  for  seed  the  coming  year.  They  had  tried 
some  corn  and  wheat,  but  neither  had  matured  well,  and 
they  would  hardly  venture  them  again.  Their  butter 
and  cheese  they  sold  to  the  miners  over  in  South  Park, 
and  some  they  sent  even  to  Denver  and  a market.  They 
called  their  place  Kerberos  Ranch,  after  their  leading 
partner,  who  seemed  to  be  a live  Dutchman  all  over. 
Of  course,  we  had  to  stop  to  dinner,  though  it  was  not 
yet  noon ; and  when  that  meal  was  announced,  they 
conducted  us  to  a table  Denver  might  have  envied. 
Trout,  venison,  grouse,  krout,  with  all  the  vegetables  of 
the  season,  and  lager-beer  home-brewed,  made  up  a 
meal  not  to  be  despised  anywhere,  least  of  all  in  the 
fastnesses  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  They  had  seen  no 
officers  and  hardly  any  body  else,  for  months,  and  would 
take  no  pay  for  anything ; but  gratefully  accepted  an 
armful  of  “ literature,”  as  we  bade  them  good-bye — the 
last  of  our  newspapers,  magazines,  and  books  still  left 
from  our  supply  on  leaving  Denver.  Their  nearest 
neighbor  was  eighteen  miles  off,  and  nearest  post-office 
seventy-five.  To  Denver  was  a hundred  and  fifty  miles, 
and  it  took  a team  a month  or  more  to  go  there  and 
return  via  Poncho  Pass.  They  pronounced  the  Pass,  in 
response  to  our  eager  inquiries,  entirely  practicable,  with 
careful  driving,  if  we  crossed  by  daylight;  and  with  their 
kindest  wishes,  we  -went  on  our  way  rejoicing. 

Some  miles  after  leaving  Kerber’s,  we  began  to  ascend 
the  mountain,  but  the  ascent  was  so  gradual  you  scarcely 
noticed  it.  There  was  no  well-defined  road  any  where 
— only  an  old  Indian  trail  for  saddle  and  pack  animals, 
along  which  only  a few  wagons  had  ever  passed  before. 
We  continued  to  ascend  until  dusk,  hoping  to  reach  and 


PONCHO  PASS — 


101 


cross  the  summit  before  going  into  camp  ; but  after  sun- 
set, the  trail  became  so  faint  and  our  animals  so  leg-weary, 
we  were  compelled  to  halt  at  the  first  wrood  and  water 
we  came  to.  This  we  did  on  the  bank  of  a beautiful 
stream,  that  washed  the  base  of  a high  bluff  or  rather 
“ butte,”  and  rushed  thence  via  Homan’s  Park  to  the 
Rio  Grande.  Several  of  us  had  rode  on  ahead  on  horse- 
back, but  the  teams  did  not  get  up  until  after  dark. 
Meanwhile,  we  had  gathered  wood,  and  built  a roaring 
fire ; and  when  the  rest  arrived,  we  soon  had  camp  pitched, 
and  the  coffee  boiling.  We  had  shot  some  ducks  on  the 
Rio  Grande,  and  brought  along  some  excellent  beef-steaks ; 
and  these  H.  and  L.  now  broiled  before  the  fire,  on  sharp- 
ened sticks,  in  a style  the  Parker  House  could  hardly 
have  beaten.  We  found  excellent  grass  here,  although 
so  far  up  the  Pass,  and  our  poor  tired  animals  cropped  it 
eagerly.  The  moon  was  at  the  full  that  night,  and  the 
sky  cloudless ; but  before  morning  the  air  grew  bitter 
cold.  We  shivered  through  the  night,  in  spite  of  our 
blankets  and  buffalo-robes;  and  the  next  morning  at 
breakfast,  the  ice  formed  in  our  tin-cups  between  the 
intervals  of  eating  and  drinking.  We  were  camped,  in 
fact,  on  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  at  a height 
of  nine  or  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  with  snow- 
peaks  all  about  us,  and  the  only  wonder  is  that  we  got 
through  the  night  so  well.  For  the  first  time  since  leav- 
ing Denver,  we  felt  a sense  of  loneliness  and  danger; 
and  the  occasional  yelping  of  the  wolves  around  us,  in 
the  still  midnight  air,  did  little  to  allay  this.  Our  ani- 
mals, also,  seemed  fretful  and  uneasy,  and  we  suspected 
Indians  about,  but  nothing  came  of  it.  We  looked  well 
to  our  arms  before  retiring,  and  talked  much  of  the  night 
away — it  was  so  cold ; and  the  next  morning  broke  camp 
early,  and  were  off  up  the  Pass  again. 


102 


A HARD  ROAD  TO  TRAVEL 


A.  half  an  hour’s  ride  or  so  brought  us  to  the  summit, 
which  surprised  us,  as  the  ascent  had  been  so  gentle  all 
the  way  up  from  Kerber’s — far  less  than  that  of  Sangre 
del  Christo  from  Fort  Garland.  The  view  from  the  sum- 
mit we  found  limited,  compared  with  that  from  Sangre 
del  Christo  ; and  soon  after  we  descended  into  a sheltered 
nook  knee  deep  in  grass,  with  wood  and  water  both  just 
at  hand,  where  we  had  been  advised  to  camp  the  night 
before,  if  able  to  reach  it.  Following  the  banks  of  a dimin- 
utive brook,  we  descended  gradually  to  Poncho  Creek ; 
and  here  our  really  bad  road  began.  So  far,  the  Pass 
had  been  excellent,  all  things  considered,  and  we  were 
astonished  at  its  bad  reputation ; but  after  we  crossed 
Poncho  Creek,  and  got  started  down  its  wild  canon,  we 
soon  found  ample  cause  for  it  all.  A narrow  defile,  with 
precipitous  banks  on  either  side  from  five  hundred  to  a 
thousand  feet  high,  furnished  the  only  road-way,  which 
here  found  room  first  on  one  side  of  the  creek  and  then 
on  the  other,  the  best  it  could,  and  in  many  places  it  had 
to  take  to  the  bed  of  the  creek  itself,  in  order  to  round 
the  rocky  bluffs.  The  trouble  with  the  Pass  was,  it  had 
had  no  work  done  on  it,  and  needed  grading  badly  at 
several  points.  A few  hundred  dollars  judiciously 
expended  would  have  made  it  much  superior  to  Sangre 
del  Christo,  we  all  thought.  It  is  not  so  high  by  a thou- 
sand feet  or  more,  nor  nearly  so  steep,  and  we  judged  it 
would  yet  become  one  of  the  favorite  routes  to  and  from 
San  Luis  Park. 

While  the  teams  were  working  through,  L.  and  I 
passed  on  ahead,  with  our  rifles  at  our  saddle-bows, 
hoping  to  start  a bear  or  shoot  a buck-tail  deer,  but  saw  no 
game  of  any  kind.  Our  experience  among  the  mountains 
on  this  trip,  indeed,  was  unfavorable  to  the  stirring 
accounts  we  had  heard  and  read  of  great  game  there. 


VALLEY  OF  THE  ARKANSAS  — 


103 


The  lack  of  trees  there,  except  in  the  canons,  and 
especially  of  nut-bearing  trees,  and  likewise  of  fruit- 
bearing bushes,  must  be  unfavorable  to  animal  life,  as  a 
rule,  and  I doubt  if  there  ever  was  much  there,  except  an 
occasional  deer  or  bear,  eagle  or  buzzard.  We  were  sur- 
prised to  find  so  few  birds,  and  scarcely  any  squirrels, 
except  a little  red  species  no  bigger  than  our  ground-squir- 
rels east.  We  met  two  of  Kerber’s  teams  toiling  wearily 
up  the  Pass,  as  we  descended  it,  and  gave  them  the  first 
news  they  had  had  from  the  ranch  in  weeks.  We 
got  several  miles  ahead,  before  we  knew  it,  and  did  not 
halt  until  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  Pass,  where  it 
debouches  into  the  valley  of  the  Little  Arkansas.  It  was 
an  hour  or  more  before  the  ambulances  overtook  us,  and 
then  we  received  a rough  account  of  their  experiences. 
In  several  places,  they  had  had  to  lash  ropes  around  them 
and  edge  them  along  the  hillsides  the  best  thev  could. 
In  others,  they  would  have  upset  repeatedly,  but 
managed  by  walking  and  pushing  to  keep  them  on  their 
wheels,  and  finally  got  through  safe  and  sound.  The 
wagon,  however,  being  heavier  and  clumsier,  had  cap- 
sized badly,  and  they  had  driven  ahead  and  left  it,  with 
instructions  to  follow  on  as  soon  as  possible.  Crossing 
the  valley  of  the  little  Arkansas  and  a high  range  beyond, 
late  in  the  afternoon  we  descended  into  the  valley  of 
the  Arkansas  proper,  and  at  sunset  went  into  camp  on  its 
banks,  near  Schwander's  ranch.  The  Arkansas,  we  found, 
was  here  already  a very  considerable  stream,  but  we 
forded  it  without  difficulty.  Our  unfortunate  wagon, 
perhaps  it  should  be  added,  got  along  after  dark,  much 
the  worse  for  wear ; and  jaded  and  weary  with  the  day’s 
journey,  we  were  glad  to  pass  a quiet  night  of  it. 

The  next  morning  we  crossed  another  lofty  range,  the 
ascent  of  which  was  wild  and  picturesque,  and  thence 
5* 


104 


SOUTH  PARK — 


descended  into  South  Park.  Less  in  size  than  the  San 
Luis,  and  more  broken  in  surface,  the  South  Park  never- 
theless has  the  same  general  characteristics,  though  more 
nearly  circular.  Its  enclosing  mountains  are  abrupt  and 
bold,  and  the  views  from  many  points  are  very  striking 
and  charming.  Passing  out  of  it  to  Denver,  we  ascended 
the  range  from  which  Leutze  is  said  to  have  conceived 
his  well-known  painting  in  the  Capitol  at  Washington, 
“Westward  the  star  of  Empire  takes  its  way.”  The  facts 
are  little  like  the  painting  aforesaid,  because  no  emigrant 
train  would  ever  attempt  to  pass  over  such  an  impossible 
road,  as  Leutze  has  painted : but  the  landscape  from  the 
point  referred  to  is  nevertheless  noble  and  grand.  The 
range  there,  1 believe,  is  about  eight  thousand  feet  above 
the  sea.  South  Park,  at  your  feet,  extends  say,  thirty 
miles  north  and  south,  by  twenty  east  and  west ; down 
in  its  bosom  nestles  a necklace  of  exquisite  little  lakes, 
with  streams  flashing  onward  from  the  mountains  to 
them  ; while  beyond — all  along  the  west,  in  fact — runs 
the  perpetual  Snowy  Range,  notched  and  peaked,  clear 
cut  and  beautiful  against  the  sky,  though  not  so 
grand  and  stately  as  we  had  seen  it  farther  south.  To  the 
north  of  the  road  the  range  shoots  up  nearly  a thousand 
feet  higher,  but  the  view  from  there  did  not  compensate 
us  for  our  toil  in  ascending  it.  The  whole  view  here, 
though  fine  in  its  way,  lacks  breadth  and  sublimity,  as 
a specimen  of  Rocky  Mountain  scenery,  and  Leutze  would 
have  done  better  (in  my  judgment)  had  he  gone  to  Sangre 
del  Christo  or  perhaps  Poncho  Pass.  The  sk}’  and  gen- 
eral coloring  of  his  painting  are  good ; but  how  inade- 
quately, how  feebly  they  express  the  exquisite  serenity 
and  unapproachable  glory  of  the  Mountains!  Bierstadt’s 
skies,  though  thought  impossible  east,  are  nearer  to  the 


TWIN  LAKES  (South  Park). 


' • '• 


MEXICAN  VS.  YANKEE 


105 


truth,  as  our  critics  will  yet  learn,  when  they  come  to 
know  more  of  Colorado. 

In  South  Park,  we  had  struck  a new  civilization,  the 
evidences  of  which  grew  constantly  more  apparent.  The 
Mexican  and  the  herder  had  given  way  to  the  Yankee  and 
the  miner,  and  the  contrast  was  most  striking.  Handles 
and  settlements  were  more  numerous,  and  the  spirit  of  en- 
terprise was  everywhere  observable.  First  we  struck  some 
saline  springs,  where  extensive  salt-works  had  already 
been  erected,  and  they  were  reported  to  be  paying  well. 
They  were  said  to  furnish  a superior  article  of  salt,  at  a 
less  price  than  it  could  be  imported  from  the  east,  and  the 
company  expected  thus  to  monopolize  the  salt-market 
of  Colorado  and  the  adjoining  regions.  Beyond  these, 
ranches  thickened  up  all  the  way  to  Fair  Play,  and  we 
found  some  splendid  duck-shooting  in  the  marshes,  that 
now  and  then  skirted  the  road.  Some  of  the  flocks, 
however,  carried  off  an  immense  amount  of  lead,  or  else  H. 
and  L.  were  indifferent  shots — we  were  never  quite  able  to 
decide  which.  They  were  our  champion  sportsmen,  and 
though  they  bagged  a number  of  fine  ducks  en  route , 
they  never  were  entirely  satisfied.  They  both  fired 
simultaneously  at  a great  flock  that  rose  up  as  we  drove 
by,  and  when  none  dropped  H.  protested,  “ I know  I hit 
a dozen  that  time,  but  these  confounded  Rocky  Moun- 
tain ducks  don’t  know  what  shot  is.  They  fly  away  with 
enough  honest  lead  in  them  to  kill  an  ordinary  eastern 
duck  twice  over.”  L.  of  course,  confirmed  this,  and 
adduced  the  abundant  feathers  as  proof  of  their  joint 
achievement.  B.  suggested  that  the  Indians  had  charmed 
their  fowling-pieces,  and  meekly  inquired  of  H,  “ Didn’t 
the  ducks  carry  off  your  shot-pouch  also  ? ” At  Fair 
Play,  in  the  northwest  corner  of  the  Park,  we  found  a 
mining  town  of  four  or  five  hundred  inhabitants,  appa- 


106 


FAIR  PLAY 


rently  busy  and  prosperous.  Timber  grew  plentifully  in 
the  neighboring  canons,  and  now  adobe  huts  gave  place 
to  frame  and  log  shanties.  The  South  Platte  skirts  the 
town,  and  is  already  a considerable  stream  here,  although 
it  cannot  be  far  away  from  its  source.  At  Fair  Play  it 
heads  north  up  into  the  great  Snowy  Pange,  or  water  shed 
of  the  continent,  which  feeds  it  perpetually,  and  runs 
thence  east  to  join  the  North  Piatte  near  Fort  McPher- 
son, where  we  had  struck  it  by  stage-coach  a month 
before.  Good  “ gold  diggings  ” had  been  found  here  long 
before,  and  its  entire  banks  about  Fair  Play  have  been 
dug  over,  “ panned  out,”  and  ransacked  generally.  They 
presented  a torn  and  ragged  appearance,  as  if  a 
young  earthquake  or  two  had  recently  broken  out  there, 
and  this  was  not  materially  improved  by  the  long  and 
high  flumes  then  going  up.  When  these  were  com- 
pleted, they  expected  to  turn  the  Platte  considerably 
aside,  and  to  And  rich  “ placer  mines  ” in  its  sand-bars 
and  bed  again.  The  principal  mining  then  in  South 
Park,  however,  was  farther  up  the  Platte,  at  Empire, 
Buckskin  Joe,  and  other  euphoneously  named  places, 
none  of  which  had  we  time  to  visit.  The  business  gen- 
erally seemed  to  be  settling  down  to  quartz-mining,  as  at 
Black-Hawk  and  Central  City,  and  to  be  passing  more 
and  more  into  the  hands  of  Companies.  We  met 
several  huge  boilers  on  the  road,  en  route  to  various  mills, 
and  it  seemed  marvellous  how  they  could  ever  wagon 
them  so  far  across  the  Plains,  and  up  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  Mountains.  Progress  with  them  must  have  been 
slow  and  tedious  anywhere ; but  when  they  struck  a 
slough,  or  reached  the  mountain  ranges,  then  came  the 
whacks  and  oaths. 

Judge  Costello,  of  the  Fair  Play  House,  entertained 
us  while  there,  and  gave  us  excellent  accommodations. 


STRIKE  NEWSPAPERS  AGAIN — 


107 


There  had  been  several  inches  of  snow  at  Fair  Play  a few 
days  before,  and  arriving  just  at  nightfall  after  a long 
day’s  drive,  we  felt  the  cold  very  keenly.  But  the  Judge 
soon  had  a roaring  tire  blazing  on  his  hearth,  and  wel- 
comed us  to  Fair  Play  right  royally.  In  due  time  he 
gave  us  a substantial  dinner,  piping  hot — roast-beef, 
chicken-fricasee,  potatoes  with  their  jackets  on,  dried- 
apple-pie  and  coffee — a meal  that  seemed  supremely 
Sybaritic,  after  “ roughing  it”  by  the  roadside  for  over  a 
fortnight.  We  did  ample  justice  to  it,  having  breakfast- 
ed nearly  twelve  hours  before,  and  then  adjourned  to  a 
common  bed-room,  where  we  smoked  and  read,  the  papers 
until  midnight.  We  had  seen  none  since  leaving  Den- 
ver, nearly  a month  before  ; but  J udge  C.  happened  to 
have  just  received  a large  supply,  which  we  devoured 
eagerly.  The  elections  in  California  and  Oregon  had 
just  been  held,  and  the  North  was  again  rocking  with 
enthusiasm.  Andrew  Johnson’s  apostacy,  it  w'as  clear, 
promised  to  be  a losing  game  after  all.  The  spirit  of  a 
few  people  at  last  wras  aroused,  as  after  the  tiring  on 
Sumter,  and  evidently  the  nation  meant  again  neither 
to  be  bribed  nor  scared.  True,  the  November  elections 
were  yet  to  come ; but  we  took  increased  faith  in  the 
virtue  and  intelligence  of  the  masses,  and  rejoiced  that 
Congress  was  still  true  to  Liberty.  Absence  from  “ the 
states”  is  a great  purifier  of  one’s  political  ideas.  We  see 
things  at  home  clearer,  and  reverence  the  Union  more, 
the  farther  we  get  awa}^  from  New  York  and  Washington. 
We  forgot  all  the  wretched  hair-splitting  east,  by  one 
side  or  the  other;  and  came  to  love  only  the  old  flag,  in 
its  highest  and  best  significance,  as  the  symbol  of  free- 
dom and  justice,  for  each  and  for  all  men,  the  broad 
continent  across  and  the  wide  world  over. 

The  next  morning,  a young  miner  invited  us  out  to 


108 


A PLUCKY  EAGLE 


take  a look  at  a fine  specimen  of  the  American  black- 
eagle,  which  he  had  caught  a few  days  before,  while 
u prospecting”  along  the  Snowy  Range.  He  was  com- 
paratively a young  bird  still,  yet  measured  some  six  feet 
from  tip  to  tip  of  wings,  and  was  as  brave  and  fierce  as  a 
tiger.  lie  was  kept  chained  by  the  leg  in  a dark  stable ; 
but  he  was  as  wide  awake  as  he  could  be,  and  screamed 
and  flew  savagely  at  every  one  who  came  near  him.  It 
was  intended  to  forward  him  to  the  great  Fair  soon  to  be 
held  at  St.  Louis,  as  a specimen  of  the  feathered  tribe 
from  Colorado,  where  no  doubt  he  created  a sensation. 
His  eyes  were  bright  and  keen  as  a falchion,  and  his 
talons  ugly  looking  grappling-irons.  So,  too,  his  legs 
were  massive,  compact  columns,  that  seemed  made  for 
strength  and  endurance.  And  altogether  he  was  not  a 
bad  representative  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  where  his 
species  have  their  birth-place  and  home. 

From  Fair  Play  we  descended  the  South  Platte  direct 
to  Denver,  following  the  course  of  the  river  wherever 
practicable.  In  some  places,  its  narrow  and  precipitous 
canons  prevented  this,  but  we  always  returned  to  its 
banks  again  as  soon  as  possible.  Some  miles  from  Fair 
Play,  we  passed  several  gems  of  lakes,  which  H.  declared 
to  be  “ the  natural  home  of  the  wild-duck  ; ” but  though 
the  ducks  were  there,  he  failed  to  bag  any,  greatly  to  his 
disgust.  L.  more  fortunate,  got  one,  and  killed  several 
others,  but  failed  to  reach  them  because  of  the  marshes. 
Our  road  led  over  several  ranges,  some  of  them  quite  pre- 
cipitous, but  in  the  main  followed  the  windings  of  the 
Platte,  as  before  said.  Here  and  there  the  wild  canons, 
through  which  the  Platte  sped  like  an  arrow,  became 
picturesque  in  the  extreme.  Frequently  our  course  ahead 
seemed  barred  by  impenetrable  fastnesses,  yet  somehow 
we  always  got  through.  High  and  rocky  cliffs  towered 


ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  ROADS — 


109 


all  about  us,  and  all  up  and  down  these,  wherever  they 
could  secure  a foothold,  the  fir,  pine,  maple,  ash,  etc.  grew 
densely.  As  we  neared  Denver,  ranches  became  more 
frequent,  and  saw-mills  multiplied,  the  lumber  from 
which  was  shipped  far  and  near,  among  the  mines  and 
across  the  Plains,  even  to  Julesburg  and  Fort  Riley.  The 
road  in  the  main  was  a natural  way  ; but  here  and  there  it 
had  been  blasted  out  of  the  bluff,  or  built  up  on  the 
edge  of  the  Platte,  at  large  expense,  and  I believe  is  a 
chartered  turnpike  from  Fair  Play  down.  The  Platte 
alone  makes  such  a road  practicable,  and  South  Park  and 
all  its  dependencies  would  be  virtually  inaccessible,  were  it 
not  for  this  great  natural  highway  into  the  very  heart  of 
the  Mountains.  Altogether,  it  is  a remarkably  good  road, 
all  things  considered,  and  so  are  the  majority  of  the  roads 
there.  As  a rule,  they  follow  the  streams  that  seem  to  lead 
almost  everywhere  among  the  ranges,  as  if  purposely 
chiseled  out  from  the  beginning,  as  future  pathways  of 
civilization.  Our  miners,  taking  the  hint,  carry  their  roads 
over  heights,  and  through  depths,  and  among  peaks,  that 
would  appal  most  eastern  engineers,  and  thus  enable  us 
to  conquer  nature  in  her  mightiest  strongholds. 

The  last  day  out  from  Denver,  we  ascended  Bradford’s 
Hill — our  last  serious  climb — about  noon.  This  is  in 
reality  the  first  range  of  the  mountains,  and  gets  itself 
up  to  some  8,000  feet  above  the  sea  ; but  is  yet  termed  a 
“Hill,”  in  Colorado  parlance.  We  all  got  out  or  dis- 
mounted and  walked  up,  to  relieve  our  worn  animals,  and 
became  well  blown  ourselves  before  reaching  the  summit — 
the  atmosphere  grew  so  rare.  As  we  rounded  its  western 
shoulder,  we  caught  a grand  view  of  the  Snowy  Range 
again,  solemn  and  sublime  over  and  above  all  intervening 
peaks  and  ridges ; but  with  one  accord,  all  hastened  for- 
ward to  behold  once  more  the  Plains,  the  Plains ! Yes, 


110 


Bradford’s  hill — 


there  they  were,  in  all  their  immeasurable  extent!  We 
were  out  of  the  Mountains — our  long  jaunt  almost  over. 
No  more  canons.  No  more  forests.  No  more  snow- 
squalls.  No  more  rides,  hour  by  hour,  through  narrow 
valleys  and  defiles,  where  the  whole  man  feels  “ cabined, 
cribbed,  confined.”  No.  There  were  the  Plains,  illimit- 
able, grand,  in  all  their  immensity  and  sublimity.  We 
thought  the  view  from  Sangre  del  Christo  fine,  and  so  it 
is  ; but  as  a view  of  the  Plains  proper,  without  the  Moun- 
tains thrown  in,  this  view  from  Bradford’s  Hill,  I think, 
perhaps  surpasses  it.  There  is  no  end  to  the  vast  outstretch 
and  outlook,  and  in  the  serene  atmosphere  of  that  region 
the  eye  ranges  over  it  all  with  an  ease  and  freedom,  only 
equalled  by  the  eagle  himself  when  poised  in  mid  air. 
To  say  that  the  Plains  are  visible  for  miles  on  miles — 
north,  south,  east — is  but  a feeble  description  of  the 
wonderful  panorama,  that  there  unfolds  before  you.  To 
the  south  appeared  Castle  Pock  and  its  sister  buttes,  that 
we  had  passed  three  weeks  before,  looking  now  like  mole- 
hills beneath  us.  Issuing  from  the  Mountains  at  our  feet, 
we  could  trace  the  South  Platte  and  Cherry  Creek  to 
where  they  unite  near  Denver,  and  then  follow  the  Platte 
on  and  on  to  the  east,  till  lost  in  the  far  horizon.  Denver 
lay  like  a toy-city,  seemingly  at  the  base  of  the  Mountains, 
though  really  twenty  miles  away.  Over  all,  was  one  of 
those  perfect  days, 

“ So  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright, 

The  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky.” 

as  old  George  Herbert  wrote,  which  no  Bostonian  or 
Gothamite  ever  truly  witnesses — with  not  a cloud  or  haze 
even  visible,  the  air  so  pure  it  was  joy  to  breathe  it  and 
ecstacy  to  gaze  abroad  through  it.  Verily,  here  in 
Colorado,  if  anywhere. 


MULE  KATE- 


111 


" The  sky  is  a drinking  cup, 

That  was  overturned  of  old. 

And  it  pours  into  the  eyes  of  men 
Its  wine  of  airy  gold  ; 

We  drink  that  wine  all  day 
Till  the  last  drop  is  drained  up, 

And  are  lighted  off  to  bed, 

By  the  jewels  in  the  cup.” 

Off  to  the  southwest,  just  shouldering  over  the  range, 
presently  a white  cloud  loomed  up,  no  bigger  than  a 
man’s  hand  ; but  the  dry  atmosphere  east  was  too  much 
for  it,  and  it  faded  away  as  fast  as  it  toppled  over.  As 
we  stood  gazing  at  the  immensity  before  us,  some  one 
incidentally  said,  “ I think  I now  understand  how  Bilboa 
felt,  when  from  the  summit  of  the  Andes  he  beheld  the 
Pacific  ; ” and  it  is  a good  illustration  of  the  identity  of 
thought  under  like  circumstances,  that  half-a-dozen  others 
quickly  responded,  “ You  bet ! Just  thinking  of  the 
same  thing ! ” 

We  reached  Denver  the  same  evening,  jaded  and 
travel-stained,  but  full  of  enthusiasm  over  our  trip  among 
the  mountains.  We  had  traversed  nine  counties,  some 
as  large  as  a moderate  state  east,  and  been  absent  nearly  a 
month  in  all.  We  had  been  reported  captured  and  slain 
by  the  Indians,  as  much  as  two  or  three  times,  but  from 
first  to  last  did  not  see  a hostile  aborigine.  We  drove 
the  same  animals  down  and  back,  over  five  hundred 
miles  continuously,  without  the  loss  of  a mule,  and  sel- 
dom made  less  than  thirty  or  forty  miles  a day,  when  on 
the  road.  Our  ambulances  proved  very  convenient  and 
serviceable,  but  in  crossing  the  ranges  or  in  bad  canons  I 
always  preferred  a mule.  My  favorite  was  Kate,  a 
noble  jenny,  as  large  as  a horse  and  a splendid  walker, 
that  carried  me  over  many  a mile  delightfully.  She  was 
as  gentle  as  a kitten,  and  as  faithful  as  a dog — it  some- 


A LITTLE  FUN. 


112 

times  seemed  almost  as  knowing  as  a man — obeying 
every  whim  of  her  rider,  and  following  him  everywhere. 
If  any  mule  ever  attains  immortality  and  a sort  of  heaven 
hereafter,  surely  Kate  deserves  to.  In  crossing  the 
ranges  or  threading  the  canons  thus,  on  horse  or  mule 
back,  several  of  us  would  often  get  miles  ahead,  and  the 
time  thus  gained  afforded  ample  leisure  for  observation 
and  reflection.  We  were  seldom  at  a loss  for  conversa- 
tion, there  was  so  much  to  investigate  and  discuss;  but 
when  all  else  failed,  we  amused  ourselves  by  organizing 
(on  paper)  two  monster  Mining  Companies,  with  fabulous 
capitals,  in  wdiich  we  divided  off  and  took  stock.  I believe 
I belonged  to  the  Grand  Sangre  del  Christo  Rocky  Moun- 
tain Mutual  Benefit  Gold  and  Silver  Mining  Association  ; 
capital,  $20,000,000  ! H.  and  C.  and  others  constituted 
a rival  company,  with  like  assets  and  name  equally 
pretentious.  We  set  up  these  financial  fictions  early  in 
the  trip,  when  somebody  fell  to  talking  about  “ feet ; ” 
and  what  with  selling  “ short,”  operating  for  a u rise,” 
“ corraling  the  market,”  u declaring  dividends,”  and  abus- 
ing each  others’  u Company,”  they  served  to  while  away 
many  an  idle  interval.  The  last  afternoon  out,  we  “ con- 
solidated,” shook  hands  over  the  “ union,”  elected  a full 
“ Board  of  Officers,”  and  adjourned  to  receive  our  “joint 
dividends,”  at  New  York  ; but  hitherto  have  never  been 
so  fortunate  as  to  get  a “ quorum  ” together  there,  and 
doubt  now  if  we  ever  will. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  INDIANS — GEN.  SHERMAN — KIT  CARSON,  ETC. 

T Fort  Garland,  in  San  Louis  Park,  Sept  21st,  Gov. 


Cumming,  Gen.  Sherman,  and  the  famous  Kit  Car- 
son  (then  Bv’t.  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols.),  met  in  council, 
concerning  the  Utes  and  the  Indian  question  generally. 
Sherman,  as  elsewhere  intimated,  was  then  in  the 
midst  of  a long  tour  by  ambulance,  through  the 
heart  of  the  Indian  country  embraced  in  his  then 
Military  Division,  and  as  he  had  already  travelled 
about  1200  miles,  with  no  escort  except  a couple 
of  staff-officers  and  the  necessary  teamsters,  without 
seeing  a hostile  Red  Skin,  he  was  getting  to  be  somewhat 
skeptical  on  the  whole  Indian  subject.  The  grand  Treaty 
with  the  Utes  was  to  come  off  Sept.  22d  and  23d  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rio  Grande,  some  thirty  miles  northwest 
from  Fort  Garland  ; but  as  Sherman  had  decided  to  leave 
Garland  on  the  22d  for  his  return  east  via  the  Arkansas, 
a preliminary  council  wras  called  at  Fort  Garland  on  the 
21st.  Runners  had  been  sent  out  a day  or  two  before, 
and  the  Big  Chiefs  of  the  Utes  kept  arriving  all  that 
day.  The  council  was  held  late  in  the  afternoon,  in  a 
large  room  back  of  the  commandant’s  quarters.  The 
chiefs  were  grouped  on  one  side  of  the  room,  squat  upon 
their  haunches,  grave  and  dignified  ; while  on  the  other 
sat  Sherman  in  loose  uniform,  puffing  a cigar,  with  Gov. 
Cumming  on  one  side  and  Kit  Carson  on  the  other. 


114 


COUNCIL  WITH  TIIE  UTE3 — 


Carson  served  as  interpreter,  speaking  Mexican  well, 
which  the  chiefs  mostly  understood.  After  some  pre- 
liminary skirmishing,  Sherman  said  he  had  called  them 
together  to  ascertain  whether  the  Utes  were  willing  to 
quit  their  nomadic  life  and  settle  down  on  a Reserva- 
tion. lie  urged  this  upon  them,  as  their  true  interest, 
if  they  wished  to  maintain  their  tribal  existence,  and 
said  he  had  only  come  among  them  to  promote  their 
happiness  and  welfare.  He  added,  he  had  recently  been 
visiting  many  other  tribes  with  the  same  object  and  pur- 
poses, and  as  a friend  to  their  race  was  convinced  their 
only  hope  for  the  future  lay  in  going  on  a Reservation. 
The  chiefs  debated  the  matter  among  themselves  for 
awhile,  and  presently  made  answer,  that  they  thanked  the 
Big  Warrior  for  his  suggestions  and  approved  them;  but 
that  their  young  men  were  opposed  to  such  a policy,  and 
they  feared  it  would  be  difficult  to  persuade  the  Utes  of 
its  wisdom,  until  the  Cheyennes  and  Comanches — 
their  hereditary  foes — had  first  adopted  it.  The  coun- 
cil lasted  an  hour  or  more,  with  much  skillful  fencing 
and  adroit  diplomacy  on  the  part  of  Ooray  and  Anean- 
tash,  the  head-chiefs  ; but  this  was  the  substance  of  all 
that  Sherman  could  worm  out  of  them.  He  tried  to 
explain  and  reason  with  them  in  various  ways,  but  at 
last  broke  up  the  council  in  disgust,  and  blurted  out  in 
his  peculiar  way,  as  he  strode  back  to  his  quarters, 
“ They  will  have  to  freeze  and  starve  a little  more,  I 
reckon,  before  they  will  listen  to  common  sense ! ” Sub- 
sequently he  told  us  of  a council  that  he  had  held  about  a 
fortnight  or  so  before,  at  Fort  Laramie  or  somewhere  up 
there,  with  the  Arrapahoes  or  the  Sioux.  He  had  urged 
upon  the  chiefs,  that  their  white  brothers  were  opposed 
to  war  and  desired  peace,  and  he  hoped  there  would  be 
no  more  bloodshed  in  that  region  between  the  Red 


INDIAN  PONIES  — 


115 


Man  and  the  Pale  Face.  The  chiefs  presently  replied, 
with  a wariness  worthy  of  Talleyrand,  that  they  recipro- 
cated his  Quaker  sentiments,  and  would  do  all  in  their 
power  to  enforce  them ; but  that  tlieir  young  men  were 
rash  and  fiery  sometimes,  and  it  might  be  difficult 
to  hold  them  in.  “Well,  then,”  said  Sherman  to  the 
interpreter,  firing  up,  “ Tell  the  rascals  so  are  mine  / and  if 
another  white  man  is  scalped  in  all  this  region,  it  will  be 
impossible  to  hold  mine  in.”  The  chiefs  saw  the  point, 
and  no  doubt  sagely  concluded  they  w’ould  have  trouble, 
if  ever  they  got  Tecumseh  Sherman  fairly  after  them. 

The  grand  Treaty  with  the  Utes  came  off*,  as  I have 
said,  on  Sept.  22d  and  23d,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande, 
some  thirty  miles  or  so  northwest  from  Fort  Garland.  W e 
left  Garland  early  in  the  morning  by  ambulance,  and  reach- 
ed the  treaty  ground  soon  after  noon.  Gov.  Gumming  and 
Indian  Agent  Hunt  had  preceded  us,  and  on  arriving  we 
found  them  just  sitting  down  to  discuss  a Rio  Grande  trout, 
nearly  as  large  as  an  eastern  shad.  The  Utes  had  pitched 
their  lodges  a mile  or  so  away,  in  a bend  of  the  river, 
but  they  were  constantly  passing  to  and  fro  on  horseback 
and  afoot.  Apparently  none  of  them  ever  walked,  if  he 
could  afford  the  luxury  of  a pony,  and  often  one  puny 
pony  was  made  to  carry  two  or  three  lubberly  fellows  at 
a time.  Evidently  the  Plains  Indians  are  as  averse  to 
walking,  as  the  traditional  Texan,  who  is  said  never  to 
leave  his  door-sill  without  mounting  a mustang.  These 
Ute  ponies  are  hardy,  sagacious  little  fellows,  some  of  them 
very  handsome,  and  are  of  course,  the  lineal  descendants 
of  the  wild  horses  of  the  Plains.  Ooray,  their  head 
chief,  rode  a bright  little  bay,  that  would  have  taken  a 
first-class  premium  almost  anywhere.  Of  course,  they 
get  no  grain,  but  subsist  exclusively  on  grass.  They 
constitute  their  owners’  chief  wealth,  and  a Ute  will  part 


116 


A UTE  PRINCES  


with  almost  anything  sooner  than  his  pony.  Braves, 
squaws,  papooses,  all  ride  astride,  and  generally  at  a gallop. 
They  seldom  use  the  spur,  but  rarely  mount  without  a 
whip,  and  this  they  keep  going  pretty  steadily  while  on 
the  road.  Their  saddles  are  rude  affairs  of  wood,  with 
very  short  stirrups;  but  their  bridles  are  better  made, 
and  usually  have  some  kind  of  an  iron  bit,  if  at  ail 
obtainable. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  hundreds  of  the 
Indians  thronged  our  little  camp,  in  all  varieties  of 
costume,  though  chiefly  in  breech-cloth  and  blanket  or 
buffalo-robe.  Both  sexes  dress  much  alike,  and  at  first 
it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  one  from  the  other,  though 
you  soon  came  to  know  the  squaws  from  their  smaller 
stature.  The  paraphernalia  of  some  of  them  was  ludi- 
crous in  the  extreme.  One  young  buck  had  managed  to 
secure  an  old-style  artillery  hat,  with  long  scarlet  horse- 
hair plume,  and  a dilapidated  white  shirt ; and  as  he 
strutted  about  in  these  (only  these  and  nothing  more !) 
considered  himself  wholly  en  regie.  Another,  the 
princess  and  beauty  of  the  tribe,  a dirty  belle  of  seven- 
teen, resplendent  in  paint  and  feathers,  was  arrayed  in 
much  gorgeousness  of  beads  and  buckskin,  and  whiffed 
her  cigarritos  by  the  hour  together.  During  the  morn- 
ing she  had  ridden  her  thirty  miles,  man-fashion,  with 
the  chiefs  from  Fort  Garland,  and  in  the  aftornoon  she 
lolled  about  camp  in  magnificent  indolence.  Her  laugh 
was  rich  and  musical,  and  she  seemed  indeed  quite  a pet 
with  the  tribe. 

The  afternoon  was  passed  in  preliminary  arrange- 
ments for  the  Treaty,  and  towards  evening  a number  of 
us  walked  over  to  the  Indian  village  to  return  our  calls. 
We  found  it  to  consist  of  perhaps  three  hundred  wig- 
wams, arranged  pretty  regularly  in  streets,  and  contain- 


AN  INDIAN  VILLAGE 


117 


ing  in  all  some  twelve  hundred  souls.  The  wigwams  or 
lodges  were  made  of  skins  and  hides,  stretched  over 
circularly  inclined  poles — rude  originals  evidently  of  our 
army  Sibley  tents — with  an  opening  at  the  top  for  the 
smoke  to  escape  through.  At  the  door  were  planted 
their  spears  or  lances,  and  shields ; inside,  on  skins  or 
blankets,  the  braves  were  fast  asleep  or  playing  cards; 
without,  the  youngsters  were  playing  ball  or  practicing 
with  the  bow  and  arrows.  We  wandered  through  the 
streets  until  nightfall,  striking  up  a talk  or  barter  in  our 
broken  Ute  the  best  we  could,  and  had  some  interesting 
experiences.  Just  then  the  village  was  all  agog  with 
excitement  and  joy.  The  day  before,  their  Agent  had 
given  them  several  beeves,  which  they  had  at  once 
slaughtered  and  partly  eaten ; the  surplus  was  now 
hanging  all  about  on  lariats  and  poles,  curing  in  the  dry 
atmosphere.  “ Jerked-beef,”  I suppose,  our  Plains-men 
would  call  it.  A flock  of  sheep  had  also  been  given 
them,  and  the  squaws  were  now  busy  “corraling”  these, 
as  we  happened  along.  A few  refractory  ewes  refused 
to  enter  the  corral — a slight  enclosure  of  brush — and 
these  were  being  hotly  pursued  by  the  boy-braves  and 
dogs.  The  dogs  headed  them  off*  on  all  sides,  while  the 
boys  lassoed  them  one  after  another,  until  the  squaws 
came  up  and  caught  them.  It  was  fine  practice  for  the 
lasso,  and  the  youngsters  seemed  to  enjoy  it  greatly. 
Dogs  abounded  everywhere.  Each  wigwam  seemed  to 
have  a goodly  supply,  and  the  village  at  large  a brigade 
besides.  They  were  small  wolfish-looking  curs,  as  a rule, 
and  the  most  vociferous  and  incessant  yelpers  I ever 
listened  to.  They  had  no  regular  bark — only  a wild 
yelp,  like  their  savage  ancestors,  the  cayotes  of  the 
Plains.  It  is  only  the  civilized  dog,  that  “ bays  deep- 
mouthed  welcome” — that  has  a full,  open  “ bark” — and 


113 


INDIAN  DOGS  AND  PROFANITY 


this  he  loses  when  he  relapses  to  savagery  again.  There 
was  no  moving  anywhere  about  the  village,  without 
having  a score  or  more  of  them  yelping  at  your  heels; 
but  this  seemed  to  be  the  extent  of  their  hostile  inten- 
tions. When  they  became  rather  noisier  than  usual, 
some  passing  squaw  would  dash  at  them  with  a stick 
and  a shower  of  “ God  dams,”  and  that  would  scatter 
them  for  the  time.  Most  of  our  Indians  have  all  learned 
to  swear  the  rough  oaths  of  the  Border,  and  always 
swear  in  English,  as  they  have  no  corresponding  words 
in  their  own  language.  In  describing  cavalry,  they  put 
the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  one  hand  on  the  palm  of  the 
other,  ajid  then  move  them  along  in  imitation  of  a 
gallop.  In  speaking  of  ox-trains,  they  stretch  out  their 
arms,  and  say,  “ Whoa-IIaw ! Git ! ” But  when  they 
come  to  mule-teams,  they  invariably  speak  of  them  as 
“ God  dams ! Go  ’long ! ” because  of  the  copious  oaths 
our  teamsters  hurl  at  them.  Indeed,  the  average  Indian 
always  speaks  of  the  donkey,  as  a “ God  dam,”  and 
thinks  that  the  correct  name.  These  Utes  in  general,  I 
must  say,  seemed  to  be  much  more  thrifty  and  comforta- 
ble than  we  had  anticipated,  though  doubtless  some  of 
this  was  due  to  the  recent  generous  issue  of  supplies  by 
the  Agent. 

Our  party  scattered  pretty  well  through  the  village, 
one  after  another  halting  to  palaver  with  acquaintances 
we  had  picked  up  ; but  as  it  grew  dark,  we  gradually 
drifted  together  and  prepared  to  return.  Dr.  M.  was  still 
bargaining  with  a chief  for  a fancy  shield  he  wanted  as 
a souvenir,  when  the  rest  began  moving  off,  and  begged 
me  to  wait  a minute  until  he  was  through.  Several 
minutes  passed  by,  and  then  his  bargaining  ended  in 
failure — the  Big  Chief  refusing  to  “ swop” — their  uni- 
versal word  for  selling  or  trading.  Then  we  started  to 


LOST  AMONG  THE  UTES 


119 


overtake  the  rest,  but  they  had  passed  out  of  view  in  the 
deepening  twilight,  and  though  we  hallooed  to  them  could 
get  no  answer — the  hubbub  of  the  village  evidently 
drowning  our  voices.  Emerging  from  the  wigwams,  we 
soon  discovered,  that  neither  of  us  had  taken  any  proper 
notes  of  the  landmarks,  as  we  came  over,  being  busy 
talking  with  the  rest,  and  consequently  neither  knew  the 
way  back.  Here  was  a pretty  predicament,  surely,  for 
two  ambitious  young  men— cast  away  in  a village  of  a 
thousand  savages,  unable  to  speak  a sentence  of  their 
language  intelligibly  or  they  ours,  night  already  come, 
and  no  hint  of  how  to  extricate  ourselves.  To  make  it 
doubly  absurd,  we  presently  discovered,  that  our  onl}* 
belligerent  weapons,  whether  for  offence  or  defence,  con- 
sisted of  a Rogers’  penknife  apiece.  We  had  been  so 
remiss,  as  to  leave  camp  without  our  revolvers — a precau- 
tion that  no  Mountain  or  Plains-man  ever  neglects. 
While  pondering  the  “ situation,”  we  luckily  caught  sight 
of  the  Sierra  Blanca  glistening  in  the  moonlight,  and  as 
we  knew  this  to  be  southeast  of  our  camp  we  concluded 
our  route  lay  toward  it.  We  set  off  accordingly,  and 
had  made  perhaps  a quarter  of  a mile,  across  sloughs  now 
dry  and  through  the  rank  grass,  when  one  of  us  suggested, 
that  we  could  not  be  going  right,  or  our  camp-fires  would 
appear.  This  seemed  reasonable,  the  country  was  so 
level ; so  a halt  was  ordered,  while  we  scanned  the 
horizon  for  fires  elsewhere.  Presently  far  away  to  the 
left,  we  descried  a fire  blazing  loftily  up,  and  concluded 
this  must  be  ours,  and  that  our  comrades  had  put  on  extra 
fuel  to  guide  us  the  better  home.  The  direction  seemed 
wrong,  judging  by  the  position  of  the  Sierra  Blanca ; but 
as  it  was  the  only  fire  visible,  except  those  at  the  Indian 
village,  we  concluded  it  must  be  ours,  and  changing  our 
course  struck  for  it  accordingly.  A trudge  of  a mile  or 


120  RATHER  EXCITING  SITUATION 

more,  with  an  occasional  tumble  into  a dry  slough,  at 
length  brought  us  to  the  tire,  when  to  our  disappointment 
we  found  it  to  be  only  the  camp-tire  of  two  rough-looking 
customers,  who  said  they  were  out  “ prospecting”  for 
mines.  They  said  they  had  reached  there  just  at  night- 
fall, from  a long  trip  through  the  Mountains,  and  as  yet 
had  seen  nothing  of  our  camp,  and  of  course  knew  nothing 
of  its  whereabouts.  Two  Utes  were  squatted  before  the 
tire,  who  they  said  had  just  rode  over  from  the  village, 
and  we  asked  one  of  the  men,  who  had  been  talking  with 
them  in  Mexican,  to  inquire  the  way  to  “ Kit  Carson’s 
Camp”  for  us.  He  did  so,  and  the  Indians  jumping  up 
responded,  they  would  conduct  us  there.  We  thought 
now  we  were  in  luck,  surely,  and  thanking  the  miners 
for  their  kindness  prepared  to  follow  our  copper-colored 
friends.  Unloosing  a little  pony,  that  was  picketed  near 
by,  they  both  clambered  upon  him,  and  then  with  grunts 
and  mutterings  to  each  other,  of  which  we  only  under- 
stood an  occasional  “ God  dam,”  they  rode  along  ahead 
for  perhaps  a quarter  of  a mile,  when  suddenly  they 
turned  round  on  the  pony  without  stopping,  chattered 
and  gibbered  away  at  us  for  a minute  or  two  like  monkeys, 
and  then  with  a wild  whoop,  that  for  a moment  quite 
dazed  us,  galloped  wildly  off  toward  the  Indian  village. 

We  were  now  worse  off  than  ever,  and  our  affairs 
were  evidently  coming  to  a crisis.  Of  course,  we  halted 
again,  and  called  another  “ council  of  war.”  M.  advised 
going  back  to  the  miners’  camp-fire,  and  trusting  our  for- 
tunes for  the  night  with  them.  I objected  that  we  knew 
nothing  about  them ; that  they  were  suspicious  looking 
customers  anyhow — hadn’t  the  air  of  genuine  miners; 
and  suggested  that  we  camp  down  where  we  were,  on  the 
banks  of  a bayou,  as  there  was  plenty  of  dry  wood  there 
for  a fire,  and  when  morning  came  we  would  hunt  up  the 
6 


MARK  TAPLEY’s  PHILOSOPHY 


121 


Rio  Grande,  and  follow  it  down  to  onr  lost  camp.  He 
assented  to  this,  but  on  reflection  I further  suggested, 
whether  it  wouldn’t  be  better,  after  all,  to  go  boldly  into 
the  Indian  village,  and  govern  ourselves  by  circumstances. 
We  knew  Ooray  and  Ancantash,  the  head  chiefs,  and  why 
not  ask  for  them  ? If  we  could  And  them , our  troubles 
would  be  over.  If  we  couldn’t,  at  the  wrorst,  we  could 
claim  the  hospitality  of  some  other  chieftain,  and  quarter 
for  the  night  in  a Ute  wigwam.  I urged  that  the  Indians 
already  knew  where  we  were  anyhow,  and  also  knew  that 
we  were  unarmed  and  lost ; that  it  would  be  disagreeable 
to  hear  their  arrows  wdiizzing  around  us  there,  or  per- 
haps be  scalped  and  tossed  into  the  bayou  before  morning ; 
and  that,  in  short,  I w^ould  risk  the  Utes,  if  he  would. 
M.  approved  the  plan,  as  the  best  we  could  do  under  such 
dismal  circumstances ; so  off  we  trudged  again  for  the 
Indian  village,  which  by  that  time  we  were  beginning  to 
wish  we  had  never  seen.  We  tried  to  keep  our  courage 
up  by  discussing  Mark  Tapley,  and  his  philosophy  of  the 
“jolly;”  but  the  result  could  hardly  be  called  a success. 
Perhaps  the  two  braves  who  had  so  suddenly  deserted  us, 
with  such  unearthly  whoops,  were  lying  in  wrait  for  us 
somewhere  ahead ! Perhaps  the  next  step  we  would 
hear  an  arrow  whiz  by,  or  over  us — perchance  through  us  ! 
Nevertheless,  I remember  also  a ludicrous  feeling  at  the 
idea — after  escaping  unscathed  from  the  rebellion — of 
falling  ignominiously  there,  on  the  banks  of  the  Del  Norte, 
by  the  hand  of  a Ute,  with  only  a pocket-knife  to  defend 
myself  with  ! 

However,  we  proceeded  cautiously  forward,  with 
many  a halt  and  “ hist,”  and  presently  without  molest- 
ation reached  the  village  again.  The  dogs,  of  course, 
challenged  our  approach  with  a multitudinous  yelping, 
as  before : but  some  friendly  squaws  appeared,  and 
6 


122 


YOUNG  CHIEF  WELLINGTON — 


soon  dispersed  them  with  a copious  shower  of  “ God 
dams.”  Approaching  a lodge  in  which  we  saw  a 
number  of  Indians  reclining  around  a fire,  we  tried  to 
make  them  understand,  that  we  were  lost  and  wanted 
to  find  the  way  to  “ Kit  Carson’s  Camp  ; ” but  met  with 
the  same  poor  success  as  before.  Then  we  inquired  for 
Ooray  and  Ancantash,  but  they  either  did  not  comprehend, 
or  else  were  unwilling  to  bother  with  us,  as  their  only 
answer  was  a grunt — “ Ugh  ” — or  a stare.  Evidently,  on 
reflection,  they  concluded  we  were  bores , for  they  soon 
resumed  their  pipes,  and  the  low  drawling  song  they  were 
crooning  when  we  entered.  We  tried  two  or  three  more 
lodges,  with  the  same  result,  and  had  about  made  up  our 
minds  to  camp  down  for  the  night,  where  we  were,  when 
M.  suggested  that  we  try  one  more  wigwam,  and  if 
we  failed  there  to  give  it  up.  This  seemed  almost  provi- 
dential ; for  as  we  entered  the  lodge-door,  up  sprang  a lithe 
young  chief,  whom  we  had  met  during  the  day,  and  came 
smiling  toward  us  with  the  greeting,  “ How,  Gen-e-ral ! 
How,  Doc-tor ! Know  me  ? Me,  Wellington  ! ” {Ilow  is  all 
the  Indian  has  learned  yet  of  How  do  you  do  ? or  How  are 
you  ?)  Greasy  and  dirty  as  the  fellow  was,  we  could 
have  hugged  him  with  delight ; for  now  we  knew  our 
troubles  were  all  over.  We  answered  him,  “O  yes! 
Know  Wellington,  of  course!  In  our  wigwam  to-day  ! 
But  lost  nowT ! Ko  find  wigwam  ! Kit  Carson’s  Camp?” 
He  comprehended  our  lingo,  and  “ the  situation,”  in  a 
moment,  and  quickly  replied,  “Yes!  Wellington  go!” 
and  then,  with  an  eye  to  the  main  chance,  shrewdly 
added,  “How  much?”  We  answered,  “Two  paint, 
and  some  tobacco.”  He  held  up  three  fingers,  and  bar- 
gainingly  responded,  “ Three  paint,  and  ’baccy  a heap?” 
By  “ paint  ” he  meant  little  packages  of  Indian  paint — 
blue,  vermillion,  yellow — such  as  some  in  camp  had 


SAFE  AT  LAST 


123 


brought  along  for  barter,  and  we  readily  acceded  to  his 
terms.  As  it  was  growing  late,  he  asked  another  young 
buck  to  go  along,  who  demanded  the  same  terms,  which 
of  course  we  cheerfully  granted.  Then  they  took  up 
their  bows  and  arrows,  drew  their  blankets  around  their 
shoulders,  and  bidding  the  rest  u bueno  noche  ” we  moved 
off. 

We  soon  observed,  that  they  were  conducting  us 
toward  the  Sierra  Blanca,  in  the  same  direction  that  we 
took  originally.  We  questioned  Wellington  about  this, 
but  he  persisted  it  was  right;  and  so  we  pushed  on, 
though  not  without  some  misgivings.  A half  hour  or  so, 
however,  brought  us  safely  to  camp,  where  we  found  our 
friends  discussing  our  absence,  and  wondering  what  had 
become  of  us.  We  cautioned  each  other  to  say  nothing 
about  our  adventure  ; but  the  joke  was  too  good  to  keep, 
and  the  facts  all  came  out  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  as 
we  sat  around  the  camp-fire  and  smoked  our  fatigue  away. 
However  tame  it  may  read  now,  it  was  exciting  and 
romantic  enough  at  the  time,  and  I record  it  here  for  the 
moral  involved,  to  wit : 1.  Mind  your  topography,  on 
leaving  camp  ; 2.  Never  quit  camp,  without  your  rifle  or 
revolver ! 

Of  course,  we  paid  Wellington  and  his  friend  their 
paint  and  tobacco,  and  dismissed  them  with  hearty 
thanks.  We  won  their  hearts  by  inviting  them  both  to 
lunch  next  day,  and  continued  fast  friends  during  the 
rest  of  our  stay  there. 

The  next  day  (Sept.  23d)  having  been  set  apart  for 
the  Treaty,  Indians  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages  at  an  early 
hour  began  to  swarm  through  our  encampment.  All,  of 
course,  were  naturally  on  hand,  to  hear  the  Big  Talk  and 
share  the  many  presents.  The  chiefs  and  braves  were 
there  first,  gorgeous  in  paint  and  feathers;  but  long 


124 


OORAY  AND  OTHER  CHIEFS- 


before  the  Council  assembled,  the  poor  squaws  also 
arrived,  freighted  with  their  papooses.  The  spot  selected 
was  a sloping  sward  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande,  and 
but  a short  distance  therefrom.  Blankets  were  spread  on 
the  grass  for  the  Commissioners  and  head  chiefs : the 
young  chiefs  arid  braves  formed  a rude  circle  around 
these ; and  beyond  these  still  were  the  women  and  chil- 
dren. The  four  leading  men  seemed  to  be  Ooray,  Arrow , 
Sha-wa-she-wit,  Blue  Flower , Ancantash,  and  Chi-chis- 
na-sau-no,  also  abbreviated  into  Shauno.  The  head  chief 
of  the  tribe,  and  the  finest  looking  Indian  we  had  yet 
seen,  was  Ooray.  He  was  a medium  sized,  athletic  look- 
ing man,  of  about  forty,  with  as  fine  an  eye  and  head,  as 
you  will  see  anywhere.  Moreover,  he  was  very  neat  and 
clean  in  his  person,  as  if  he  believed  in  the  saving  virtues 
of  soap  and  water — something  wonderful  for  a Red  Skin. 
Two  or  three  years  before,  he  had  made  the  tour  of 
Washington  and  the  East,  and  to-day  wore  the  handsome 
silver  medal,  that  President  Lincoln  then  gave  him.  Kit 
Carson  said  he  had  made  good  use  of  this  eastern  trip, 
and  being  already  a rising  man,  the  knowledge  and  experi- 
ence then  acquired  had  since  raised  him  to  the  king-ship, 
notwithstanding  his  want  of  age — several  of  the  chiefs 
being  older,  but  none  so  shrewd  as  he.  The  head-warrior, 
however,  was  Ancantash,  and  he  was  certainly  one  of  the 
coolest  and  bravest  looking  men  I ever  met.  He  was  a 
reticent,  reflective,  but  very  observant  man,  with  many 
of  the  calm  characteristics  of  our  own  Grant,  and  no 
doubt  is  quite  as  desperate  and  obstinate  a fighter  in  his 
small  way.  Kit  Carson  cited  instances  of  his  prowess,  that 
showed  supreme  manhood  and  courage ; but  there  is  not 
room  for  them  here.  Shauno,  taller  and  more  dignified, 
had  a face  and  form  much  like  Tecumseh’s,  and  altogether 


THE  TREATY  ITSELF- 


125 


was  about  as  fine  a looking  specimen  of  the  savage  as 
history  makes  mention  of. 

The  Council  opened,  as  usual,  with  a general  smoke, 
the  pipe  being  passed  for  a whiff  or  two  from  one  to 
another  all  around,  and  then  Gov.  Cumming  proceeded 
to  address  his  copper-colored  friends.  He  said  the  Great 
Father  at  Washington  had  made  him  Big  Agent  for  Col- 
orado*, and  as  such  he  had  come  down  from  Denver,  to 
bring  them  their  annual  presents,  hear  their  grievances, 
if  any,  and  ha\re  a general  talk  about  their  future  welfare. 
This  was  interpreted  by  Kit  Carson  into  Mexican,  with 
profuse  pantomime,  after  the  Indian  fashion,  and  then 
reinterpreted  by  Ooray  into  Ute  for  the  benefit  of  his  red 
brethren.  It  was  received  with  a general  grunt  of  satis- 
faction all  round,  and  then  Ooray  replied  : 

“ Good  ! Let  the  Big  Chief  speak  on  !” 
u Our  Father  at  Washington  has  many  children,  both 
white  and  red,  and  the  Great  Spirit  bids  him  regard  all 
alike.  He  has  watched  his  red  children,  the  Utes,  along 
time,  and  generally  found  them  peaceable  and  friendly. 
Therefore,  he  loves  them  very  much,  and  is  pained  to  see 
them  diminishing  in  numbers  from  year  to  year.  He 
thinks  this  is  because  of  their  wars  with  other  tribes,  and 
increasing  scarcity  of  game,  and  believes  if  they  would 
settle  down  in  one  place,  like  his  pale-face  children,  they 
would  be  much  better  off.  Then  they  could  raise  cattle, 
and  sheep,  and  barley,  and  have  comfort  and  plenty 
always.” 

To  which,  Ooray  : 

“ True  ! So  ; a heap ! Utes  got  plenty  now.  Hunt 
give.  But  soon  all  gone,  and  then  Utes  starve  a heap. 
Long  time  ago,  Utes  always  had  plenty.  On  the  prairie, 

* As  Governor  he  was  ex-officio  Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs 
there. 


12G 


GEN*  CUMMING  SPEAKS 


antelope  and  buffalo,  so  many  Ooray  can’t  count.  In  the 
mountains,  deer  and  bear,  everywhere.  In  the  streams, 
trout,  duck,  beaver,  everything.  Good  Manitou  gave  all 
to  red  man  ; Utes  happy  all  the  year.  White  man  came, 
and  now  Utes  go  hungry  a heap.  Game  much  go  every 
3’ear — hard  to  shoot  now\  Old  man  often  weak  for  want 
of  food.  Squaw  and  papoose  cry.  Only  strong  brave  live. 
White  man  grow  a heap ; Bed  man  no  grow — soon  die 
all.” 

To  which,  Gov.  C. : 

“ Our  Great  Father  knows  all  this,  and  it  grieves  him 
very  much.  But  he  can  think  of  no  way  to  remedy  it, 
except  by  the  Utes  quitting  their  wandering  life,  and  set- 
tling down  on  a Reservation.  If  they  will  do  this,  and  will 
stop  lighting  the  Cheyennes  and  Comanches,  lie  will  have 
a good  Reservation  set  apart  for  them,  with  water,  wood, 
and  grass  in  abundance.  He  will  give  them  cattle,  sheep, 
seeds,  and  implements.  And  he  will  send  good  white 
men  among  them,  to  teach  them  farming,  etc.  By  this 
means,  the  Utes  will  soon  have  houses  and  fields,  flocks 
and  herds,  the  same  as  white  men,  and  all  will  be  better 
off  and  happier. 

To  which,  Ooray : 

“ Yes!  So  ! Much  true!  Ooray  and  Big-Chief  under- 
stand, and  know  Utes  must  go  on  Reservation  some  day 
— raise  beef,  pony,  and  barley — or  perish.  But  young 
braves  no  understand  ; hard  to  make  ’em.  Some,  too, 
say,  if  Utes  go  on  Reservation,  Cheyennes  and  Coman- 
ches— enemies  of  Utes  always — will  know  where  to  find. 
Then  some  night,  when  Utes  all  asleep,  will  come  like  a 
squaw  and  kill  a heap.  Utes  hate  Cheyenne — Comanche 
— God  dam ! ” 

“ But  our  Great  Father  will  prevent  that.  He  will 


OORAY  REPLIES 


127 


build  forts,  and  station  his  blue  coats  near  you,  and  they 
will  keep  off  the  Cheyennes  and  Comanches.” 

When  this  was  interpreted  to  Ooray,  for  the  first 
time  he  lost  his  savage  dignity,  and  laughed  outright. 
When  he  reinterpreted  it  to  the  Utes,  there  was  a gen- 
eral chorus  of  laughter,  which  lasted  several  minutes. 
Evidently,  they  had  little  respect  for  the  average  soldier 
of  the  Plains,  whether  infantry  or  cavalry.  Presently, 
however,  Ooray  recovering  his  dignity  replied : 

“ Why  don’t  our  Great  Father’s  blue-coats  keep  off 
the  Cheyennes  and  Comanches  some  now  ? Last  snow 
the  Comanches  came  right  by  the  forts,  found  the  Utes 
in  one  place,  and  killed  many.  Utes  killed  Comanches 
bac  k a heap.  Now  Utes  move  about  much — hunt  buffalo 
on  the  prairie — build  wigwam  in  the  mountains — fish  in 
Del  Norte.  Utes  stop  not  in  one  place,  and  Comanches 
no  find.  But  Utes  settle  down  ; then  Comanches  come 
and  kill.  Tell  Great  Father,  Cheyennes  and  Comanches 
go  on  Reservation^/^  • then  Utes  will.  But  Comanches 
first.” 

This  was  about  the  same  answer  substantially,  that 
they  had  given  Gen.  Sherman  down  at  Fort  Garland  ; 
and  with  all  his  diplomacy,  Gov.  C.  could  not  extract 
more  from  them.  There  was  a deal  of  good  common 
sense  in  it,  too — the  instinct  of  self-preservation — and 
the  governor  could  not  help  admitting  this,  much  as  he 
desired  to  enforce  the  views  of  the  Government.  lie 
rehashed  his  arguments,  and  presented  them  anew  in 
various  ways ; but  to  all  of  them,  Ooray  steadil}7  made 
answer : 

“ Ooray  has  spoken  ! ” And  there  the  matter  ended. 
Subsequently,  after  some  considerable  talk  with  his 
brother  chiefs,  Ooray  resumed : 

“ Suppose  Utes  go  on  Reservation,  and  bad  pale-face 


128 


A SHARP  INDIAN 


come  and  shoot  Indian  ; what  will  onr  Great  Father  do 
then  ? ” 

“ Why,”  answered  Gov.  C.,  “ Our  Great  Father  will 
have  him  arrested  and  tried  in  his  courts  ; and,  if  found 
guilty,  will  hang  him.  If  the  Great  Father’s  own 
brother,  he  would  hang  him  all  the  same.” 

Ooray  had  great  difficulty  in  understanding  this. 
Gen.  Carson  had  to  repeat  and  explain  it  a number  of 
times,  before  he  could  comprehend  what  a court  and  jury 
were,  and  even  then  he  seemed  somewhat  dazed.  Doubt- 
less he  found  it  hard  to  believe,  that  we  would  hang  any 
white  man  for  killing  an  Indian,  let  alone  our  Great 
Father’s  brother,  after  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  of  law 
and  justice  on  the  border.  But  after  much  questioning 
back  and  forth,  he  appeared  to  catch  some  glimpse  of  the 
idea,  and  after  pondering  it  awhile,  sorrowfully  an- 
swered : 

“Yes!  So!  Ooray  comprehend  ! Much  good!  But 
my  people  no  comprehend.  No  make  them  now.” 

He  seemed  to  think  there  was  no  use,  in  even  trying 
to  get  such  an  idea  into  their  heads,  and  communicated 
to  them  some  short  answer,  which  apparently  satisfied 
them. 

Again,  after  much  deliberation,  he  warily  asked  : 

“ Suppose  pale-face  steal  pony  from  red-man,  what 
will  Great  Father  do?  ” 

To  which  Gov.  C. : 

“ He  will  compel  the  pale-face  to  restore  the  pony. 
And  if  the  thief  can’t  be  found,  and  his  red  children 
prove  their  loss,  the  Great  Father  will  pay  for  it  in  goods 
or  money.” 

This  seemed  to  give  great  satisfaction,  when  he  first 
interpreted  it ; but  presently  the  chiefs  became  excited, 
and  a hot  discussion  spread  among  them.  Kit  Carson 


A FUTURE  LOGAN 


129 


said,  as  well  as  lie  could  make  out,  they  were  canvassing 
among  themselves,  whether  on  the  same  principle  the 
government  would  not  compel  them  to  restore  or  pay  for 
what  they  stole  from  the  whites ; and  as  their  thefts  were 
evidently  much  the  larger,  they  speedily  directed  Ooray 
to  dodge  this  question,  without  further  talk. 

There  was  some  other  desultory  conversation,  and 
much  repetition  necessarily ; but  the  above  is  about  the 
substance  of  it  all.  The  council  lasted  two  or  three 
hours,  and  finally  wound  up  with  a dignified  expression 
of  thanks  by  Ooray,  for  the  interest  the  Great  Father 
and  Gov.  C.  took  in  them.  This  was  followed  by  a 
general  expression  of  “ Bueno ! Bueno ! by  the  rest 
of  the  Indians,  and  so  the  pow-wow  ended.  The 
governor  managed  his  side  of  the  affair  with  much 
shrewdness  and  ability,  but  failed  to  secure  the  positive 
pledges  the  government  so  much  desired.  On  the  other 
hand,  Ooray  certainly  conducted  himself  with  great 
dignity  and  good  sense,  for  an  “ untutored  savage,”  and 
fully  realized  our  old-time  notions  of  an  Indian  chieftain. 
Should  he  live,  he  will  yet  make  a figure  among  the 
Indians,  and  go  down  to  history  as  a Logan  or  a Bed- 
Jacket.  His  trip  to  Washington,  he  told  me,  convinced 
him,  it  was  idle  for  his  people  to  contend  with  the  pale- 
faces, and  his  counsels  were  always  for  peace  and  civili- 
zation. Subsequently,  some  months  afterwards,  wdien 
the  Utes  rose  in  hostilities  against  his  advice,  he  deliber- 
ately repaired  to  Fort  Garland  and  gave  himself  up, 
refusing  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  tribe,  until  they 
laid  down  their  arms  again.  All  honor  and  praise  to 
this  dusky  son  of  the  Plains  and  Mountains  ! 

After  the  council  broke  up,  there  came  a grand  distri- 
bution of  presents,  the  most  sensible  of  which  were  a 
* Good  ! good ! 


6* 


130 


BARTERING  WITH  INDIANS — 


flock  of  sheep  and  a small  herd  of  cattle.  The  balance 
amounted  to  but  little  in  a practical  point  of  view, 
though  the  Utes  of  course  were  delighted  with  their 
beads,  paint,  scarlet  blankets,  gilt  trinkets,  etc.  The 
Agents  seemed  to  deal  fairly  and  honestly  by  their  savage 
wards,  and  I doubt  not  Mr.  Hunt  (since  Gov.  of  Colorado) 
did  his  duty  in  the  premises  very  faithfully. 

During  the  day,  and  indeed  most  of  the  time  we 
were  there,  there  was  considerable  bartering  going  on 
between  some  of  us  and  the  Indians,  though  in  a petty 
way.  We  were  eager  for  Indian  relics  and  trophies,  to 
send  East  as  souvenirs,  and  they  were  equally  eager  for 
some  articles  we  possessed ; so  that  barter  was  not  diffi- 
cult. Neither  party  knew  much,  if  any,  of  the  language 
of  the  other,  but  the  bargaining  went  steadily  on  for  all 
that.  The  IJtes  came  into  camp,  with  such  articles  as 
they  wished  to  dispose  of.  If  we  desired  them  and  had 
anything  to  exchange,  we  laid  it  on  the  ground,  and  then 
— pointing  to  the  Indian  articles — uttered  the  classic  word 
“ Swop?  ” If  they  assented,  the  bargain  ended,  and  the 
exchange  took  place  immediately.  But  if  they  refused, 
or  wanted  more,  they  shook  their  heads  and  answered 
“No  swop!”  These  words,  “Swop”  and  “No  swop,” 
are  about  the  only  English  necessary  in  trading  with 
them,  and  we  found  them  current  everywhere  among  our 
Indians,  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Pacific.  In  this  way, 
our  party  succeeded  in  securing  a few  lances  and  shields, 
bows  and  arrows,  grizzly-bear  skins,  buffalo -robes,  etc., 
though  their  stock  of  skins  had  been  mostly  disposed  of 
to  the  regular  traders  some  time  before.  We  found 
them,  as  a rule,  fond  of  trading,  and  keen  at  a bargain, 
but  averse  to  parting  with  their  ponies  or  their  bows  and 
arrows.  Their  ponies  they  held  in  special  regard,  and 
asked  extravagant  prices  for  them.  Their  bows  and 


JACK  COX 


131 


arrows  were  made  of  tough,  elastic  wood,  very  scarce  in 
that  region,  and  they  were  loth  to  sell  them,  except  for 
a pistol  or  a “ carabina.”  In  this  matter  of  trading,  how- 
ever, a young  chief  named  Jack  Cox  seemed  to  be  a 
marked  exception.  lie  had  a handsome  wolf-skin  quiver, 
beautifully  finished  and  embroidered — the  finest  we  saw 
there — and  I was  desirous  of  securing  it,  if  he  cared  to 
part  with  it.  Various  offers  were  tendered  him,  but  all 
were  refused.  He  had  set  his  heart  on  one  of  our  repeat- 
ing-rifles,  and  his  constant  answer  was,  as  he  patted  the 
barrel,  “ Me  take  carabina!  Ho  thing  else!*’  Subse- 
quently, others  pressed  him  with  various  offers  ; but  they 
could  not  shake  his  resolution.  At  last  he  rose  up,  as  if 
vexed  and  irritated,  and  pointing  to  a group  of  Utes,  who 
were  crowding  around  all  eager  for  barter,  indignantly 
exclaimed,  “Mean  Indian  swop — pony,  bow,  quiver, 
robe,  any  thing  ! Jack  Cox  no  swop  ! ” Instinctively  I 
handed  him  a pipe,  and  begged  him  to  join  in  a smoke. 
Accepting  the  courtesy,  he  sat  down  again,  and  as  he 
spoke  a little  broken  English  we  managed  to  talk  some 
on  several  subjects.  But,  all  the  while,  he  watched  the 
“ swopping,”  that  was  going  on  about  him,  and  when 
he  saw  any  one  about  to  make  what  he  considered  a 
foolish  or  bad  bargain,  he  would  sneer  at  his  want  of 
judgment,  and  set  all  the  rest  of  the  Indians  to  laughing 
at  him — a trick  which  usually  broke  up  the  bargain. 
Subsequently,  he  went  off  to  the  village  for  a fancy  buf- 
falo robe,  which  he  said  he  would  “ swop  ” me  for  some- 
thing that  pleased  him,  and  kept  his  promise  by  return- 
ing with  it  an  hour  or  so  afterwards.  This  Jack  Cox 
was  a bright,  shrewd  young  fellow — lithe,  sinewy  and 
straight  as  an  arrow — about  seventeen  or  eighteen  years 
of  age ; and,  if  he  live,  will  doubtless  yet  distinguish 
himself  among  the  Utes.  He  was  already  much  deferred 


132 


AN  INDIAN  DANCE 


to  among  those  of  his  age,  and  was  decidedly  the  keenest 
one  among  them.  He  had  heard  of  Washington  and  the 
east,  and  asked  many  curious  questions  concerning  them. 
I inquired  if  he  would  not  like  to  make  a trip  east,  as 
Ooray  and  others  had  done.  He  answered,  after  reflect- 
ing a little : 

a How  long  be  gone  ? ” 

I replied  at  hap-hazard  : 

“ Perhaps  five  snows,”  meaning  five  years. 

He  rejoined, 

“ O,  no ! Ho ! Hot  five  snows  ! One  snow  ! Then 
Jack  Cox  go  ! ” 

He  interested  us  very  much  at  the  time,  and  we  all 
augured  well  of  his  future. 

The  same  evening  Wellington  and  Jack  Cox  sent 
word,  that  they  were  going  to  have  a Big  Dance  over  at 
the  village,  and  invited  us  all  over.  Accordingly  soon 
after  dark  their  tom-toms  began  to  beat,  and  at  about 
8 p.  m.,  several  of  us  walked  thither.  The  dance  had 
already  commenced,  on  a natural  lawn  that  sloped  down 
from  the  village  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Here  were  perhaps  a 
hundred  or  so  young  braves,  with  hand  locked  in  hand  and 
shoulder  pressed  to  shoulder,  moving  slowly  round  in  a 
circle  facing  inward,  while  back  of  them  were  gathered 
the  whole  village  gazing  on.  Two  or  three  of  them  beat 
time  on  rude  drums  or  tom-toms,  while  all  joined  in  a 
wild  chant  or  song.  The  music  was  barbarous,  and  their 
movements  not  much  of  a dance  ; but  they  went  through 
it  all  with  much  gravity  and  earnestness,  whatever  they 
meant  by  it.  Jack  Cox  left  the  crowd  as  we  approached, 
and  invited  us  to  participate,  which  several  did.  One 
was  allowed  to  beat  the  tom-tom,  as  a special  favor ; but 
his  performance  proved  to  be  not  a “ success,”  as  he 
failed  to  keep  time.  We  spent  an  hour  with  them,  and 


UTES  IN  GENERAL — 


133 


no  doubt  the  Utes  will  long  remember  the  occasion, 
when  their  pale-face  friends  from  the  east  danced  with 
them  by  moonlight  on  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande. 
Altogether,  it  was  rather  a unique  experience,  and  we 
wondered  what  would  come  next.  As  we  strolled  back 
to  camp,  the  moon  had  mounted  above  the  Sierra  Blanca, 
and  was  flooding  the  whole  Park  with  a sea  of  light. 
The  notched  and  jagged  peaks  of  the  Mountains  all 
about  us,  tipped  with  snow,  glittered  in  her  beams.  And 
the  hour  and  the  place  seemed,  for  all  the  world,  more 
like  a chapter  from  fairy  land,  than  sober  reality. 

As  already  intimated,  we  found  some  striking  charac- 
ters among  the  Utes — Ooray,  Ancantash,  Jack  Cox,  etc. — 
but  they  were  few  and  far  between.  The  great  mass  of 
the  tribe  were  small,  undersized  men,  with  coarse,  animal 
faces,  that  looked  as  if  they  went  hungry  half  the  time, 
if  not  more.  Their  dress  in  general  consisted  of  the 
usual  breech-cloth,  a blanket  or  buffalo-robe,  and  deer- 
skin leggings  and  moccasins.  The  nights  and  mornings 
were  already  sharp  and  chilly ; but  they  had  a knack  of 
twisting  a robe  or  blanket  about  them,  even  when  on 
horseback  at  a gallop,  that  I have  never  seen  equalled,  and 
the}'  declared  they  were  not  uncomfortable.  In  winter, 
however,  especially  their  winter,  we  would  suppose  they 
must  suffer  from  the  weather  severely.  They  seemed  to 
treat  their  poor  squaws  about  as  shabbily  as  all  other 
Indians — that  is  to  say,  about  as  bad  as  bad  can  be. 
They  compelled  them  to  wait  upon  and  serve  them  on 
every  possible  occasion,  no  matter  how  degrading.  In 
coming  to  and  going  from  our  encampment,  the  braves 
alwa}Ts  galloped  or  trotted  along  on  horseback,  while  the 
squaws  as  a rule  trudged  wearily  by  on  foot,  with  their 
papooses  at  their  backs.  It  was  the  squaws,  who  made 
their  bows  and  arrows,  spears  and  shields — dressed  their 


134: 


THEIR  POOR  SQUAWS  — 


skins — pitched  and  struck  camp — saddled  and  unsaddled 
their  ponies — and,  in  short,  performed  all  other  menial  or 
laborious  offices,  that  Indian  life  is  heir  to.  They  carried 
their  papooses  strapped  to  a board,  with  a wicker-work 
at  the  top  to  protect  the  child’s  head — the  whole  swung 
over  the  shoulders  or  across  the  forehead  by  a rude  thong. 
This  board  was  made  round  at  the  lower  end,  to  rock 
backward  and  forward  when  necessary,  and  thus  serve  as 
a sort  of  cradle.  In  camp  it  is  hung  up  on  a tree,  which 
places  the  child  out  of  danger,  while  at  the  same  time  the 
wind  sways  it  to  and  fro.  On  the  march,  the  whole  dan- 
gles from  the  mother’s  shoulder.  Some  of  these  Ute 
cradles  were  quite  neatly  adorned  with  paint  and  bead- 
work,  and  made  as  soft  and  cosy  as  buck-skin  and  buffalo- 
robe  or  beaver-fur  could  make  them.  The  papooses 
occupying  them,  with  their  jet-black  eyes  and  copper- 
colored  cheeks,  seemed  to  be  model  babies ; for  they  never 
even  whimpered.  The  wretched  and  degraded  condition 
of  their  women,  however,  is  everywhere  the  reproach  of 
savage  life.  There  was  a forlorn  and  hopeless  look  in  the 
faces  of  these  Ute  squaws,  as  if  all  their  womanhood 
was  crushed  out,  that  would  have  touched  a heart  of 
stone.  A hither,  we  are  told,  may  chastise  any  of  his 
children,  but  a mother  only  her  daughters.  She  must 
not  lay  a finger  on  a boy-brave,  on  pain  of  death ; and 
this  is  only  a specimen  of  her  disabilities.  On  the  whole, 
I must  say,  we  were  not  favorably  impressed  with  Ute 
life,  as  a rule.  It  had  its  romantic  features,  but  their  uni- 
versal u shiftlessness,”  their  long  matted  hair  sweeping 
loosely  about  their  faces  or  hanging  in  heavy  plaits  around 
their  shoulders,  their  general  squalor,  raggedness  and 
dirt,  and  above  all,  their  neglect  and  abuse  of  their  poor 
squaws — all  made  a bad  impression  and  dispelled  many 
of  the  poetic  ideas  about  the  “ Noble  Red  Man,”  “ Lo, 


KIT  CARSON 


135 


the  poor  Indian,  etc.”  that  we  cherish  in  the  east.  In 
spite  of  our  preconceived  notions,  we  could  not  help 
regarding  the  great  majority  ot  them,  as  but  little  above 
the  wild  animals,  that  roam  over  the  Plains  and  through 
the  Mountains  with  them  ; and  as  a whole — for  all  practi- 
cal purposes  of  citizenship — infinitely  below  the  colored 
race,  even  of  the  cotton  states.  Of  course,  there  were 
some  noble  exceptions,  such  as  Ooray  and  Ancantash,  but 
then  they  only  proved  the  rule.  In  point  of  intellect 
and  character,  and  promise  of  improvement,  the  African 
will  certainly  beat  the  Red  Man  all  to  pieces,  as  the 
future  will  show.  Nevertheless,  I must  say,  we  found 
the  Utes  truthful  and  honest  in  their  way,  and  Kit  Car- 
son — a good  judge — credited  them  with  being  the  bravest 
and  best  Hed  Skins  he  had  ever  met,  in  all  his  wide  wan- 
derings. 

I have  spoken  several  times  of  Kit  Carson,  and  as  he  is 
a real  historical  character,  perhaps  can  not  conclude  this 
chapter  better,  than  with  a word  or  two  more  in  regard  to 
him.  We  met  him  first  at  Fort  Garland,  where  we  found 
him  in  command  of  a battalion  of  New  Mexico  Volunteers, 
and  Brevet  Brigadier-General.  When  the  war  broke 
out,  and  most  of  our  troops  were  withdrawn  from  the 
Plains  and  Mountains,  he  applied  to  Mr.  Lincoln  for 
permission  to  raise  a Regiment  of  Volunteers  in  New 
Mexico,  to  protect  our  settlements  there,  and  the  “ good 
President”  very  properly  granted  it.  At  the  head  of 
these,  Kit  did  excellent  service  during  the  war,  on  one 
occasion  taking  9,000  Navajoes  prisoners  with  less  than 
600  men,  and  at  its  close  was  ordered  to  Fort  Garland 
and  given  command  of  a wide  region  there.  We  found 
him  in  log  quarters,  rough  but  comfortable,  with  his 
Mexican  wife  and  half-breed  children  around  him.  We 
had  expected  to  see  a small  and  wiry  man,  weather- 


136 


HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE — 


beaten  and  reticent ; but  met  a medium  sized,  rather 
stoutish,  florid,  and  quite  talkative  person  instead.  He 
certainly  bore  the  marks  of  exposure,  but  none  of  that 
extreme  “ roughing  it,”  that  we  had  anticipated.  In  age, 
he  seemed  to  be  about  forty-five.  Ilis  head  was  a 
remarkably  good  one,  with  the  bumps  of  benevolence 
and  reflection  well  developed.  His  eye  was  mild  and 
blue,  the  very  type  of  good  nature,  while  his  voice  was 
as  soft  and  sympathetic  as  a woman’s.  He  impressed 
you  at  once  as  a man  of  rare  kindliness  and  charity,  such 
as  a truly  brave  man  ought  always  to  be.  As  simple  as 
a child,  but  brave  as  a lion,  he  soon  took  our  hearts  by 
storm,  and  grew  upon  our  regard  all  the  while  we  were 
with  him.  He  talked  and  smoked  far  into  the  night 
each  evening  we  spent  together,  and  we  have  no  room 
here  for  a tithe  of  what  he  told  us.  Born  in  Kentucky, 
he  emigrated  to  the  Plains  and  Mountains  when  a child, 
and  attached  himself  to  a party  of  trappers  and  hunters, 
when  he  was  so  small  that  he  couldn’t  set  a trap.  When 
he  became  older,  he  turned  trapper  himself,  and  as  such 
wandered  all  over  our  possessions,  from  the  Missouri  to 
the  Pacific,  and  from  British  America  to  Mexico.  Next 
he  became  a government  scout  and  guide,  and  as  such 
piloted  Fremont  and  others  all  over  the  Plains  and  through 
the  Mountains.  He  confirmed  the  accounts,  we  had  heard, 
that  Fremont,  as  an  explorer,  was  somewhat  of  a charlatan, 
and  said  the  worst  time  the  Pathfinder  ever  had  was, 
when  on  one  of  his  expeditions,  he  disregarded  his  (Kit’s) 
advice,  and  endeavored  to  force  the  Mountains  northwest 
of  where  Fort  Garland  now  stands.  Kit  told  him  he 
could  not  get  through  or  over  them  at  that  period  of  the 
year,  and,  when  Fremont  nevertheless  insisted  on  pro- 
ceeding, he  resigned  as  guide.  The  Pathfinder,  however, 
went  sternly  forward,  but  got  caught  in  terrible  snow- 


sherman’s  opinion  of  him — 137 

storms,  and  presently  returned,  with  half  of  his  men  and 
animals  perished  outright,  from  cold  and  hunger.  Subse- 
quently, Kit  became  a U.  S.  Indian  Agent,  and  one  of 
the  best  we  ever  had.  Familiar  with  their  language  and 
customs,  he  frequently  spent  months  together  among  them, 
without  seeing  a white  man,  and  indeed  became  sort  of 
half  Indian  himself.  In  talking,  I observed,  that  he  fre- 
quently hesitated  for  the  right  English  word  ; but  when 
speaking  bastard  Spanish  (Mexican)  or  Indian,  he  was  as 
fluent  as  a native.  Both  Mexican  and  Indian,  however, 
are  largely  pantomime,  which  may  have  helped  him  along 
somewhat.  The  Utes  seemed  to  have  the  greatest 
possible  confidence  in  him,  and  invariably  called  him 
simply  “Kit.”  Said  Sherman,  while  at  Garland,  “ These 
Bed  Skins  think  Kit  twice  as  big  a man  as  me. 
Why  his  integrity  is  simply  perfect.  They  know  it,  and 
they  would  believe  him  and  trust  him  any  day  before 
me.”  And  Kit  returned  this  confidence,  by  being  their 
most  steadfast  and  unswerving  friend.  He  declared  all 
our  Indian  troubles  were  caused  originally  by  bad  white 
men,  and  was  terribly  severe  on  the  barbarities  of  the 
Border.  He  said  he  was  once  among  the  Indians  for  two 
or  three  years  exclusively,  and  had  seen  an  Indian  kill 
his  brother  even,  for  insulting  a white  man  in  the  old 
times.  He  protested,  that  in  all  the  peculiar  and  ingen- 
ious outrages  for  which  the  Indians  had  been  so  much 
abused  of  late  years,  they  were  only  imitating  or  im- 
proving on  the  bad  example  of  wicked  white  men.  His 
anathemas  of  Col.  Ohivington,  and  the  Sand  Creek  mas- 
sacre of  1864,  were  something  fearful  to  listen  to.  He 
pleaded  for  the  Indians,  as  “ pore  ignorant  creatures,” 
whom  we  were  daily  despoiling  of  their  hunting  grounds 
and  homes,  and  his  denunciations  of  the  outrages  and 


138 


THE  SAND  CREEK  MASSACRE 


wrongs  we  had  heaped  upon  them  were  sometimes  really 
eloquent. 

Said  he,  “ To  think  of  that  dog  Chivington,  and  his 
hounds,  up  tliar  at  Sand  Creek ! Whoever  heerd  of 
sicli  doings  among  Christians!  The  pore  Injuns  had  our 
flag  flyin  over  ’em,  that  same  old  stars  and  stripes  thar 
we  all  love  and  honor,  and  they’d  bin  told  down  to  Den- 
ver, that  so  long  as  they  kept  that  flyin  they’d  be  safe. 
Well,  then,  here  come  along  that  durned  Chivington  and 
his  cusses.  They’d  bin  out  several  days  huntin  hostile 
Injuns,  and  couldn’t  find  none  no  whar,  and  if  they  had, 
they’d  run  from  them,  you  bet ! So  they  just  pitched  into 
these  friendlies,  and  massa -creed  them — yes , sir,  literally 
m&&§2L-creed  them — in  cold  blood,  in  spite  of  our  flag  thar 
— women  and  little  children  even  ! Why,  Senator  Fos- 
ter told  me  with  his  own  lips,  (and  him  and  his  committee 
investigated  this,  you  know),  that  that  thar  d d mis- 

creant and  his  men  shot  down  squaws,  and  blew  the 
brains  out  of  little  innocent  children — even  pistoled  little 
babies  in  the  arms  of  their  dead  mothers,  and  worse  than 
this!  And  ye  call  these  civilized  men — Christians;  and 
the  Injuns  savages,  du  ye  ? 

“ I tell  ye  what ; I don’t  like  a hostile  Red  Skin  any  bet- 
ter, than  you  du.  And  when  they  are  hostile,  I’ve  fit 
’em — fout  ’em — as  hard  as  any  man.  But  I never  yit 
drew  a bead  on  a squaw  or  papoose,  and  I loathe  and  hate 
the  man  who  would.  ’Tain’t  nateral  for  brave  men  to  kill 
women  and  little  children,  and  no  one  but  a coward  or  a 
dog  would  do  it.  Of  course,  when  we  white  men  du  sicli 
awful  things,  why  these  pore  ignorant  critters  don’t  know 
no  better,  than  to  follow  suit.  Boor  things  ! I've  seen  as 
much  of  ’em  as  any  white  man  livin,  and  I can’t  help  but 
pity  ’em  ! They’ll  all  soon  be  gone  anyhow.” 

Poor  Ivit ! He  has  already  “ gone  ” himself  to  his 


139 


SHERMAN  ON  NEW  MEXICO,  ETC. 

long  home.  But  the  Indians  had  no  truer  friend,  and  he 
would  wish  no  prouder  epitaph,  than  this.  He  and  Sher- 
man were  great  friends,  and  evidently  had  a genuine 
regard  for  each  other.  They  had  known  each  other  in 
California  in  ’49,  when  Sherman  was  a banker  there,  and 
Kit  only  an  Indian  guide.  In  ’65,  when  Kit  was  at  Leav- 
enworth on  a visit,  Sherman  sent  for  him  to  come  dowrn 
to  St.  Louis,  and  they  spent  some  time  together  very 
pleasantly.  Now  Sherman  returned  his  visit,  by  coming 
to  Fort  Garland,  in  the  heart  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
It  will  be  betraying  no  secret  to  say,  that  Sherman  had 
but  a poor  opinion  of  the  Plains  country,  especially  of 
New  Mexico  and  Arizona;  for  he  did  not  hesitate  to  say 
so. any  where.  While  at  Garland,  he  told  the  following 
good  story  one  night,  as  we  all  sat  smoking  around  the 
tire,  and  he  will  pardon  me  for  repeating  it  here.  lie 
said  the  Quartermaster  General  during  the  summer  had 
written  him  several  letters,  calling  his  attention  to  the 
enormous  cost  of  our  posts  on  the  Plains,  in  New  Mexico, 
etc.,  and  begging  him  if  possible  to  suggest  some  plan, 
that  would  reduce  expenses,  etc.  “ At  first,”  said  Sher- 
man, “ I paid  no  attention  to  these  letters,  because  I 
could  not  help  the  matter.  The  Posts  were  there — 
established  by  order  of  the  Hon.  Secretary  of  War — and 
he  knew  it.  Moreover,  the  people  would  have  them 
there,  and  I could  not  help  it,  if  they  did  cost  a ‘heap.’ 
Above  all,  I was  ordered  to  keep  them  up,  and  I always 
obey  orders ; so  what  could  I do  ? So,  at  first,  I did 
not  answer  his  letters,  but  let  him  write  away  ! But 
finally  they  got  to  coming  so  thick  and  long,  that  one 
day  I sat  down  and  replied,  that  the  Posts  were  all 
there,  and  ordered  there,  as  he  knew,  and  we  were 
bound  to  supply  them,  no  matter  what  it  cost.  But 
that,  in  my  judgment,  of  the  whole  vast  region  there, 


uo 


GEN.  SUMNER  DITTO 


the  greater  portion  was  not  worth  a Confederate  note 
to  ns,  and  never  would  be ; and  if  he  wished  my  opin- 
ion as  to  the  best  way  of  reducing  expenses,  I would 
respectfully  recommend,  that  the  United  States  sell 
New  Mexico,  and  all  the  region  round  about,  to  Max- 
imilian for  $15,000,000,  and  lend  him  the  greenbacks  to 
pay  with ! 

“ I must  say,  the  government  don’t  seem  to  have 
considered  my  recommendation  favorably  yet.  But 
neither  have  I received  any  more  letters  from  the  Q. 
M.  Geji’l.  So,  I suppose,  he  is  satisfied  ! ” 

He  told  this  with  infinite  gusto,  as  if  he  enjoyed  the 
joke  hugely,  and  presently  added  : 

“The  idea,  however,  wasn’t  wholly  my  own,  but 
was  suggested  by  an  old  story  we  used  to  hear  about 
Gen.  Sumner.  You  knew  Sumner,  I suppose,  in 
the  East?  We  used  to  call  him  Bull  Sumner,  in  old 
times,  because  he  was  so  obstinate,  and  so  thoroughly  a 
soldier.  Well,  some  years  ago,  he  was  sent  out  to  com- 
mand in  New  Mexico,  and  he  certainly  entered  upon  his 
duties  with  great  alacrity  and  enthusiasm.  He  was 
going  to  explore  the  country,  he  said,  make  known  its 
vast  resources,  pacify  the  Bed  Skins,  induce  immigration, 
settle  up  the  country,  and  thus  do  away  with  our  costly 
Posts,  and  all  that.  Of  course,  he  was  sincere  in  the 
matter — always  was  sincere — one  of  the  honestest  men 
I ever  knew.  So,  he  went  to  work,  and  for  two  or 
three  years  worked  hard,  summer  and  winter — did  a 
vast  amount  of  work.  But,  finally,  he  came  to  the 
same  conclusion  I have — viz.  that  the  whole  region  was 
worthless — and  reported  to  the  Secretary  of  War,  that 
in  his  judgment,  the  wisest  thing  we  could  do,  would  be 
to  buy  out  the  New  Mexicans  and  pay  them  to  emigrate 
— to  old  Mexico,  if  possible — and  then  throw  the  whole 


SHERMAN  PERSONALLY. 


141 


country  open  (and  keep  it  open)  to  the  buffalo  and  the 
Indians ! 

“ Sumner,  they  say,  recommended  this  seriously,  and 
thought  it  a good  thing.  But  I have  never  heard  that 
the  government  agreed  with  him,  any  more  than  it  will 
with  me  ! ” 

These  were  the  stories  substantially ; but  it  is  impos- 
sible to  give  the  twinkle  of  his  eye,  the  jocular  toss  of 
his  head,  and  the  serio-comic  twitch  of  his  many-wrinkled 
features,  as  he  got  them  off.  Meanwhile  he  smoked 
furiously,  and  kept  up  that  everlasting  long  stride  of  his 
up  and  down  the  floor,  with  his  hands  deep  in  his 
trowsers’  pockets,  as  if  he  would  never  weary.  Sherman 
is  a great  talker  and  smoker,  and  beyond  doubt  a great 
man  and  original  thinker  in  many  ways.  At  the  Denver 
banquet,  he  made  a better  speech  than  his  distinguished 
brother  (the  Senator  from  Ohio) ; and  it  is  no  wonder  he 
outwitted  Joe  Johnston,  and  smashed  Hood  as  he  pleased, 
when  “ marching  through  Georgia.”  Neither  is  it  any 
wonder,  when  you  come  to  scan  him  closely,  that  he 
should  sometimes  err  a little,  as  he  did  at  Raleigh. 
Evidently,  with  all  his  great  talents,  now  and  then  he 
needs  a “governor”  to  steady  him,  as  much  as  any 
other  steam-engine  does.  Then,  he  is  a hundred  horse- 
power or  more ; and  as  General  of  the  Army,  long  may  he 
live ! 

The  Treaty  over,  we  returned  to  Denver  through 
the  heart  of  the  Mountains,  as  related  in  the  preceding 
chapter ; and  now  for  Salt  Lake  and  beyond. 


CH  APT  Ell  IX. 


DENVER  TO  SALT  LAKE. 

FROM  Denver,  we  shipped  eastward  by  express  the 
various  Indian  trophies,  we  had  secured — shields, 
lances,  bows  and  arrows,  grizzly  bear-skins,  etc. — and  rested 
for  a day  or  two.  We  found  the  weather  there  hot  and 
oppressive,  compared  with  what  we  had  experienced  in 
the  Mountains,  and  the  change  to  the  dry  atmosphere  of 
the  one,  from  the  moist  air  of  the  other,  affected  us  very 
sensibly.  Here  they  were  still  wearing  summer  clothing, 
though  in  the  Mountains  we  needed  our  great-coats,  and 
Denver  mocked  at  winter  as  weeks  yet  to  come.  From 
Denver  the  Mountains  as  a whole  seemed  grander  than 
ever;  and  the  view  of  them  at  sunset  from  our  hotel  win- 
dows could  scarcely  be  finer,  as  the  snowy  range  and 
the  heaven-kissing  peaks  one  by  one  faded  away,  through 
orange,  crimson  and  purple  into  night.  The  majesty  and 
grandeur  of  the  general  range  impress  one  more  there 
at  Denver,  I think,  than  elsewhere ; and  then,  there  is 
always  something  new  about  these  mighty  Mountains — 
they  never  seem  the  same  for  an  hour  together.  A dif- 
ference of  clouds,  or  of  atmosphere,  or  of  your  own  point 
of  vision,  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world  ; and  to  me, 
I confess,  the  Rocky  Mountains  from  Denver  were  always 
a constant  joy  and  perpetual  delight.  So  calm,  so  grand, 
so  superb,  such  stately  rest,  such  profound  peace.  As  if 
they  upheld  the  sky,  and  steadied  the  earth,  and  did  it 


OFF  FOR  THE  PACIFIC 


143 


easily.  If  there  be  no  God,  no  being  of  infinite  wisdom 
and  goodness,  there  ought  to  be  one,  to  account  for  the 
might  and  majesty,  the  beauty  and  sublimity,  with  which 
the  universe  is  filled,  when  it  might  so  easily  have  been 
monotonous  and  commonplace. 

Finally,  Oct.  4th,  we  closed  up  our  duties  at  Denver, 
and  started  for  Salt  Lake.  The  stage  left  at  S p.  m.,  and 
after  much  hearty  hand-shaking  and  kindly  good-byes,  we 
were  at  last  oft*  for  the  Pacific.  For  the  first  time  we  fully 
realized,  that  we  had  definitely  cut  loose  from  the  Atlan- 
tic States,  and  had  a long  and  toilsome  trip  now  before 
us.  I remember  a feeling  of  sadness,  as  this  conviction 
came  sharply  upon  me  ; but  we  were  soon  whirling  across 
the  Platte,  and  oft*  for  Laporte.  The  fare  through  to 
Salt  Lake,  some  600  miles,  with  25  pounds  of  baggage, 
was  $150,  currency  ; meals  extra,  at  $1,00  and  $1,50  each. 
Our  coach,  u Red  Rupert,”  was  a mountain  mud-wagon, 
wfith  a low’  canvas  top,  so  as  to  be  less  liable  to  capsize  in 
crossing  the  range,  than  a regular  Concord  Coach,  and 
was  intended  for  ten  passengers — nine  inside  and  one 
outside.  As  we  had  only  half  that  number  of  passengers, 
however,  we  thought  wTe  would  get  along  very  comforta- 
bly. We  had  gamey,  spirited  horses,  that  carried  us  along 
quite  rapidly,  until  near  midnight,  when  we  stuck  fast  in  a 
mudhole,  and  all  hands  were  ordered  up  to  help  shift  bag- 
gage and  lift  the  coach  out.  Next  morning  early  w’e  rolled 
into  Laporte,  having  made  seventy-five  miles  since  leav- 
ing Denver.  It  was  a bright  clear  morning,  with  a crisp 
bracing  air,  and  we  sat  down  to  an  excellent  breakfast  of 
fried  elk,  potatoes,  eggs,  etc.,  as  hungry  as  wolves.  In 
the  corner  of  the  room,  at  a rude  table,  sat  a little  bearded 
man,  eyeing  us  occasionally  as  he  bent  over  his  maps  and 
papers,  whose  face  seemed  familiar ; and  presently  I rec- 
ognized him  as  Gen.  Dodge,  an  old  acquaintance  of  wrar 


144 


VIRGINIA  DALE 


times  in  Tennessee  in  1864.  Now  he  was  Chief  Engi- 
neer  of  the  Union  Pacific  Pailroad,  and  was  here  compar- 
ing maps  and  surveys,  to  see  whether  they  couldn’t  find 
a shorter  route  to  Salt  Lake,  than  the  somewhat  circuit- 
ous one  by  Bridger’s  Pass.  He  recognized  me  about  the 
same  moment,  and  we  had  a hearty  hand-shake  and  chat 
over  old  times. 

Past  Laporte,  our  road  speedily  entered  the  foot-hills, 
or  “ liog-backs  ” as  the  Coloradoans  call  them  ; and  all  day 
long  we  were  bowling  ahead,  either  between  or  across 
these.  These  abrupt  ridges  hid  our  view  of  the  Plains 
and  Mountains  usually,  so  that  the  day’s  ride  as  a whole 
proved  dull  and  monotonous.  We  were  well  armed,  but 
saw  no  Indians,  nor  any  game  wTorth  mentioning.  It 
was  plain,  that  the  road  was  gradually  ascending,  but" 
there  were  no  sharp  ascents,  and  but  little  to  indicate, 
that  we  were  actually  crossing  the  Pocky  Mountains. 
The  country,  as  a whole,  was  rocky  and  barren  in 
the  extreme.  Here  and  there  the  old  red  sandstone 
cropped  out,  and  had  been  fashioned  by  the  elements 
into  all  sorts  of  curious  forms,  which  travellers  had  named 
Castle  Pock,  Steamboat  Pock,  Indian  Chief,  etc.  The 
day’s  ride  ended  at  Virginia  Dale,  where  we  got  a tolera- 
ble dinner,  and  found  an  exquisite  little  valley,  as  if 
nature  was  trying  just  there  quite  to  outdo  herself. 
Abrupt  mountains  tower  all  around  and  shut  it  in  like  a 
picture,  while  the  entrance  to  and  exit  from  the  vale  are 
bold  and  precipitous.  With  its  limpid  stream,  green 
sward,  and  bristling  pines,  it  seemed  like  an  oasis  in  the 
desert  of  the  foot-hills  there ; and  a party  of  miners 
encamped  there  for  the  night,  en  route  from  Montana  to 
the  States,  appeared  to  enjoy  its  freshness  and  beauty  to 
the  full.  We  met  several  such  parties  of  miners  between 
Denver  and  Salt  Lake,  all  bound  east  to  winter,  expect- 


MINERS  RETURNING  EAST 


145 

ing  to  return  in  the  spring.  They  said  the  difference  in 
the  cost  of  living  would  more  than  pay  them  for  the  trip, 
while  at  the  same  time  they  would  be  with  their  fami- 
lies and  friends.  They  moved  in  parties  of  a dozen  or 
so,  and  said  they  considered  themselves  safe  against  all 
hostile  comers,  whether  Road  Agents  or  Indians.  They 
were  all  well-mounted,  and  literally  bristling  with  rifles, 
revolvers,  and  bowie-knives.  Their  baggage  and  “ traps  ” 
generally  were  usually  piled  high  on  pack-horses  or  mules, 
that  they  drove  along  ahead  of  them.  They  all  carried 
their  own  provisions,  and  when  night  came  camped  down 
by  the  nearest  stream,  where  there  was  wood,  water,  and 
grass.  Such  a life  has  its  hardships  and  risks,  but  is  not 
without  its  enjoyments  also  ; and  many  an  eastern  cock- 
ney might  well  envy  the  big-bearded,  bronzed,  weather- 
beaten, but  apparently  thoroughly  happy  fellows,  that  we 
met  en  route. 

We  left  Virginia  Dale  about  6 r.  m.  and  the  same 
night  about  10  p.  m.  reached  Willow  Springs,  one  of  the 
most  desolate  stage-stations  on  the  road.  It  was  a raw 
chilly  night,  and  while  the  stage-men  were  changing 
horses,  ail  of  the  passengers  except  myself  got  out  and 
strolled  off  to  the  station-house — a hundred  yards  or  so 
away — to  get  warm.  Weary  with  the  stage  ride  of  two 
days  and  nights  continuously,  I remained  half-dozing  in 
the  coach,  wrapped  in  my  buffalo-robe,  when  suddenly  I 
was  aroused  by  a distant  noise,  that  grew  rapidly  loud- 
er and  nearer,  and  presently  came  thundering  down 
the  road  directly  toward  the  station.  While  ponder- 
ing what  it  could  be,  half-sleepy  still,  all  at  once  the  sta- 
tion-keeper, who  was  helping  with  the  horses,  broke  out 
with : 

“ I say,  Tom  (our  driver),  hark  ! Do  you  hear  that  ? ” 

“ Yes,  Billy  ! What  the  deuce  is  it  ? ” 

7 


AN  INDIAN  SCARE 


14b 


“ Why,  good  heavens,  it  must  be  the  infernal  Injuns, 
shure  as  you  live  ! The  d — d Red  Skins,  I reckon,  hev 
jest  stampeded  that  Government-train  down  the  road 
tliar;  and  they’ll  all  be  yer,  licketty  split,  quicker  than 
lightnin’,  you  bet ! ” 

I was  wide  awake  in  a second,  now.  They  pushed 
the  horses  quickly  back  into  the  stable,  and  shouted  to 
me  to  seize  all  the  arms  and  hurry  to  the  station-house. 
I was  not  certain,  that  it  was  not  better  to  stand  by  the 
coach,  and  “ fight  it  out  on  that  line,”  come  what  might ; 
but  concluded  the  stage-men  knew  more  about  such 
encounters  than  I did,  and  so  followed  their  directions. 
Out  I tumbled,  gathered  up  all  the  rifles  and  revolvers  I 
could  lay  my  hands  on,  and  rushed  to  the  station-house, 
shouting  Indians  ! Indians  ! ” Soon  the  driver  and 
stock-tenders  came  running  in  from  the  stable,  as  fast  as 
their  legs  could  carry  them  ; and  for  a few  mi  mutes  we 
thought  we  had  the  Indians  upon  us  at  last,  sure  enough. 
The  pluck  of  the  party,  I must  say,  was  admirable. 
L.  and  M.  stood  to  their  guns.  Nobody  thought  of 
flight  or  surrender.  But  all  quickly  resolved,  as  we 
grasped  our  rifles  and  revolvers,  to  make  the  best 
stand  we  could,  and  to  fight  it  out  in  that  shanty,  if  it 
took  all  summer.  But  presently,  as  the  mules  thundered 
up  the  road  and  past  us,  just  as  we  were  about  to  fire  on 
one  of  their  pursuers,  we  saw  him  tumble  from  his  horse 
all  sprawling,  as  it  stumbled  across  a chuck-hole,  and  as 
he  gathered  himself  up  heard  him  break  out  swearing  in 
good  vigorous  English,  that  stamped  him  as  a Pale  Face 
beyond  a question.  The  swearing  probably  saved  his 
life,  however  objectionable  otherwise,  and  we  were  soon 
at  his  side.  We  found  him  more  stunned,  than  hurt, 
and  presently  his  comrades  succeeded  in  stopping  the 
herd.  They  were  unable  to  say  what  had  caused  the 


STAMPEDES — 


147 


stampede;  but  as  no  Indians  appeared,  we  were  soon  off 
on  the  road  again. 

These  “ stampedes”  of*  animals  are  npt  uncommon  on 
the  Plains,  and  sometimes  prove  very  embarrassing.  A 
herd  of  mules,  well  stampeded,  will  run  for  miles,  over 
every  thing  that  opposes  them,  until  they  tire  themselves 
thoroughly  out.  Had  we  been  on  the  road,  they  would 
probably  have  stampeded  our  stage-horses — thundering 
up  so  behind  us — and  then  there  would  have  been  a 
break-neck  race  by  night,  among  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
that  would  have  been  rather  exciting,  not  to  say  more. 
It  is  a favorite  trick  of  the  Indians,  when  they  want  to 
steal  stock,  to  stampede  them  thus  at  night,  and  then  run 
off  the  scattered  animals.  A large  freight- train,  that  we 
subsequently  heard  of,  had  lost  all  its  mules  a few  nights 
before  by  such  a stampede,  and  been  compelled  to  send 
back  to  the  nearest  settlement  for  others. 

Thence  on  to  the  North  Platte,  our  route  wound  over  and 
between  foot-hills  and  ridges,  where  the  general  ascent 
was  indeed  perceptible,  but  never  difficult.  One  by  one 
we  flanked  the  main  ranges,  and  at  old  Fort  Halleck, 
8,000  feet  above  the  sea,  found  a natural  depression  or 
canon  through  the  Mountains,  in  the  absence  of  which 
a wagon-road  there  would  be  seemingly  impossible.  It 
really  appeared,  as  if  nature  had  cleft  the  range  there 
expressly  to  accommodate  the  oncoming  future  ; and  we 
swung  through  it,  and  so  down  to  the  North  Platte,  at  a 
steady  trot.  Here  and  there,  in  crossing  the  ridges,  we 
caught  exquisite  glimpses  of  snowy  peaks  off  to  the  west, 
and  of  the  far-stretching  Laramie  Plains  off  to  the  east ; 
but  the  country,  as  a whole,  was  barren  and  desolate. 
We  reached  the  North  Platte  just  at  dusk,  having  made 
104  miles  in  the  last  24  hours.  This  seemed  a good 
day’s  drive,  considering  we  were  crossing  the  Rocky 


14:8 


THE  NORTH  PLATTE — 


Mountains ; but  it  was  not  quite  up  to  the  reg- 
ular schedule.  We  had  hoped  to  get'  down  into  the 
Platte  valley  before  dark,  but  daylight  left  us  before  we 
reached  the  station.  We  had  caught  long  stretches  of 
the  valley,  as  we  came  over  the  ridges  and  down  the 
bl utfs ; but  darkness  fell  so  suddenly,  we  saw  little  of  it 
close  at  hand.  Parts  of  it,  we  were  told,  are  well 
adapted  to  farming,  and  nearly  all  of  it  could  be  made 
cultivable  by  proper  irrigation  ; but  it  seemed  too  cold 
for  anything  but  grass,  and  the  more  hardy  cereals.  No 
doubt  it  could  be  made  available  for  grazing  purposes, 
and  the  canons  of  the  neighboring  Mountains  would 
aft'ord  shelter  and  grass  for  winter.  Antelope  and  elk 
were  reported  quite  abundant  still  in  the  valley.  We 
saw  a herd  of  antelope  feeding  quietly,  a mile  away, 
soon  after  we  struck  the  valley,  and  at  the  station  they 
gave  us  elk-steaks  for  dinner — “ fried,”  of  course,  as 
usual.  Gold  was  reported  in  the  Mountains  beyond, 
but  little  had  been  done  there  vet  in  the  way  of  mining. 
No  doubt  the  Rocky  Mountains  are  penetrated  nearly 
everywhere  by  gold-bearing  veins,  and  where  these  crop 
out,  and  water  runs,  “ placer  mines  ” — more  or  less  lucra- 
tive— will  be  found.  We  found  the  North  Platte  a very 
considerable  stream,  though  readily  fordable  then  and 
there.  It  had  already  come  a long  distance  through  and 
out  of  the  Mountains,  and  now  struck  eastward  by  Fort 
Laramie,  for  its  long  journey  through  the  Plains  to  the 
Missouri.  What  a delightfully  lazy,  dreamy,  lotus-eating 
voyage  it  would  be,  to  embark  upon  its  waters  in  an 
Indian  canoe,  far  up  among  the  Mountains,  and  float 
thence  day  by  day,  and  week  after  week,  adown  the 
Missouri,  via  the  Mississippi,  to  the  sea  ! 

At  North  Platte,  we  changed  our  mountain  mud- 
wagon,  for  a coach  lighter  and  less  top-heavy  still,  and 


crossing  tiip:  summit — 


149 


pushed  on  continuing  to  ascend.  We  left  Colorado  near 
Fort  Halleek,  and  were  now  in  Wyoming.  At  Bridger’s 
Pass,  we  were  at  last  fairly  across  the  Pocky  Mountains — 
had  left  the  east  and  the  Atlantic  slope  behind  us — and 
turned  our  faces  fully  Pacificwards.  The  North  Platte 
was  the  last  stream  flowing  east,  and  about  3 a.  m.,  after 
leaving  it  we  struck  the  headwaters  of  Bitter  Creek,  a 
tributary  of  Green  .River,  that  flows  thence  via  the  great 
Rio  Colorado  and  the  Gulf  of  California  two  thousand 
miles  away  to  the  Pacific.  The  Rocky  Mountains,  the 
great  water-shed  of  the  continent,  were  thus  over  and 
past ; but  we  had  crossed  the  summit  so  easily  we  were 
not  aware  of  it,  until  our  driver  informed  us.  Our  first 
introduction  to  the  Pacific  slope  was  hardly  an  agreeable 
one.  At  our  great  elevation  the  night  was  bitterly  cold, 
and  we  had  shivered  through  its  long  hours,  in  spite  of 
our  blankets  and  buffalo-robes.  Routed  out  at  3 a.  m., 
for  breakfast,  we  straggled  into  the  stage-station  at  Sul- 
phur Springs,  cold  and  cross,  to  find  only  dirty  alkali 
water  to  wa  h in,  and  the  roughest  breakfast  on  the  table 
we  had  seen  yet,  since  leaving  the  States.  Coffee  plain, 
saleratus-biscuit  hot,  and  salt  pork  fried — only  this  and 
nothing  more — made  up  the  charming  variety,  and  we 
bolted  it  all,  I fear,  as  surlily  as  bears.  A confused 
recollection  of  cold,  and  discomfort,  and  misery,  is  all 
that  remains  in  my  memory  now  of  that  wretched  station 
at  Sulphur  Springs,  and  may  I never  see  the  like  again ! 

Long  before  daylight  we  were  off  on  the  road  again, 
and  now  had  fairly  entered  the  Desert  of  the  Mountains, 
the  famous  or  infamous  “ Bitter  Creek  Country,”  accursed 
of  all  who  cross  the  continent.  Here,  when  the  sun  got 
fairly  up,  the  sharp  keen  winds  of  the  night  hours 
changed  to  hot  sirocco  breezes,  that  laden  with  the  alkali 
dust  there  became  absolutely  stifling.  Alkali  or  soda — 


150 


RITTER  CREEK  COUNTRY 


the  basis  of  common  soap — abounds  throughout  all  this 
region  for  two  or  three  hundred  miles,  and  literally 
curses  all  nature  everywhere.  It  destroys  all  vegetation, 
except  sage-brush  and  grease-wood,  and  exterminates  all 
animals,  except  cayotes  and  Indians.  The  Indians  even 
mostly  desert  the  country,  and  how  the  cayotes  manage 
to  “get  on”  is  a wonder  and  astonishment.  The  wheels 
of  our  coach  whirled  the  alkali  into  our  faces  by  day  and 
by  night,  in  a fine  impalpable  dust,  that  penetrated 
everywhere — eyes,  ears,  nose,  mouth — and  made  all 
efforts  at  personal  cleanliness  a dismal  failure.  The  only 
results  of  our  frequent  ablutions  were  chapped  hands 
and  tender  faces — our  noses,  indeed,  quite  peeling  off. 
In  many  places  the  alkali  effloresced  from  the  soil,  and  at 
a little  distance  looked  like  hoar-frost.  It  polluted  the 
streams,  giving  the  water  a dirty  milky  hue  and  disgust- 
ing taste,  and  in  very  dry  seasons  makes  such  streams  rank 
poison  to  man  and  beast.  The  plains  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  after  the  vengeance  of  Jehovah  smote  them, 
could  not  have  been  much  worse  than  this  Desert  of  the 
Mountains  ; and  good  John  Pierpont  must  certainly  have 
had  some  such  region  in  his  mind’s  eye,  when  he  wrote 
so  felicitously : 

“ There  the  gaunt  wolf  sits  on  his  rock  and  howls. 

And  there  in  painted  pomp  the  savage  Indian  prowls.” 

One  wretched  day,  while  traversing  this  region,  one  of 
our  passengers,  from  whom  we  expected  better  things, 
unable  to  “stand  the  pressure”  longer,  indulged  too 
freely  in  Colorado  whiskey  ; and  that  night  we  had  to 
fight  the  delirium  tremens , as  well.  He  tried  several 
times  to  jump  out  of  the  coach,  and  made  the  night  hid- 
eous with  his  screams  ; but  we  succeeded  finally  in  getting 
him  down  under  one  of  the  seats,  and  thus  carried  him 


RATHER  BAD  REGION 


151 


safely  along.  As  if  to  add  to  our  misfortunes,  soon  after 
midnight  one  of  our  thorough-braces  broke,  and  then  we 
had  to  go  bumping  along  on  the  axle-tree  for  ten  or 
twelve  miles,  until  we  reached  the  next  station.  This 
no  doubt  was  a good  antidote  to  John  Barleycorn  ; but 
it  scarcely  improved  our  impressions  of  “ Bitter  Creek.” 

At  Laclede,  in  the  heart  of  the  Bitter  Creek  Country, 
we  halted  one  day  for  dinner,  and  were  agreeably  sur- 
prised by  getting  a very  good  one.  This  station  had 
once  been  famed  for  the  poorness  of  its  fare,  and  so  great 
wTere  the  complaints  of  passengers,  that  Mr.  Holliday 
resolved  to  take  charge  of  this  and  several  others  himself. 
He  imported  flour  and  vegetables  from  Denver  or  Salt 
Lake,  and  employed  hunters  on  the  Platte  to  shoot  ante- 
lope and  elk,  and  deliver  them  along  at  these  stations  as 
required.  The  groceries,  of  course,  bad  all  to  come  from 
the  Missouri  or  the  Pacific.  We  found  a tidy,  middle- 
aged,  Danish  woman  in  charge  at  Laclede — a Mormon 
imported  from  Salt  Lake — and  she  gave  us  the  best  meal 
we  had  eaten  since  leaving  Laporte  or  Denver.  We  com- 
plimented her  on  the  table,  and  on  the  general  cleanli- 
ness and  neatness  of  the  station ; and  she  seemed  much 
gratified,  as  she  had  a right  to  be. 

Our  ride  through  the  Bitter  Creek  region,  as  a whole, 
however,  was  thoroughly  detestable,  and  how  the  slow- 
moving  emigrant  and  freight  trains  ever  managed  to 
traverse  it  was  surprising.  The  bleaching  bones  of 
horses,  mules,  and  oxen  whitened  every  mile  of  it,  and 
the  very  genius  of  desolation  seemed  to  brood  over  the 
landscape.  Nevertheless,  the  station -keepers  averred,  there 
were  canons  back  of  the  bluffs,  where  grass  grew  freely ; 
and  they  pointed  to  their  winter’s  supply  of  hay  in  stack, 
as  proof  of  this.  So,  too,  at  Black  Buttes  station,  we 
found  good  bituminous  coal  burning  in  a rude  grate,  and 


152 


CO  A L AND  PETROLEUM — 


were  shown  a bluff  a hundred  yards  away  where  it  was 
mined.  Elsewhere  we  heard  of  petroleum  “showing” 
well,  and  one  day  I suggested  to  our  driver,  that  as  the 
Creator  never  made  anything  uselessly,  there  must  be 
some  compensation  here  after  all. 

“ Bother,  stranger  ! ” he  rejoined  ; “ The  Almighty’d 
nothin  to  du  with  this  yer  region.  ’Tother  fellar  (point- 
ing downward)  made  Bitter  Creek,  ef  it  ever  war  made 
at  all ; tho,  I reckin,  it  war  just  left  / ” 

“ But  what  about  the  coal?  ” I said. 

“ Dunno  ef  there’s  enny  tliar  1 But  ef  thar  be,  Prov- 
idence only  ’lowed  it,  jist  to  help  in  the  last  conflagger- 
ration — you  bet ! He  did  n’t  mean  enny  human  critter 
to  live  yer,  and  mine  it — not  by  a long  shot — you  bet ! ” 

At  several  points,  however,  we  observed  the  bluffs 
abounded  in  slate  shales,  and  other  coal-bearing  earths ; 
and  as  we  suspected  then,  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad 
has  already  developed  a vast  deposit  of  coal  there.  Bit- 
ter Creek  itself  flowed  sluggishly  by  us  for  a day  or  so, 
and  was  a little  miserable  stream,  that  just  managed  to 
crawl— usually  at  the  bottom  of  a deep  gulch  or  abrupt 
canon — its  chalky  color  proclaiming  its  alkali  taint  even 
before  you  tasted  it.  We  must  have  followed  it  for 
a hundred  miles  or  more,  and  yet  it  continued  very 
nearly  the  same  in  size  throughout.  What  water  it 
drained  in  one  locality  was  largely  evaporated  in  another, 
and  its  wretched,  villanous  character  made  it  everywhere 
an  eye-sore,  instead  of  a pleasing  feature  in  the  land- 
scape as  it  should  have  been.  But  enough  of  Bitter 
Creek,  and  its  God-forsaken  region. 

Past  Green  river,  here  a considerable  stream,  we 
entered  the  Butte  region,  and  one  evening  just  before 
sunset  approached  Church  Butte,  the  most  famous  of 
them  all.  It  was  too  late  in  the  day  to  explore  it,  but  we 


CHURCH  BUTTE 


153 


had  a grand  view  of  it  in  the  shifting  sunlight,  as  we 
drove  slowly  by.  On  the  box  with  the  driver,  a portion 
of  it  was  pointed  out,  that  resembled  a colossal  Dutchman, 
about  lifting  to  his  mouth  a foaming  beaker.  Further 
on,  as  we  rolled  westward,  the  Teuton  faded  out,  and  the 
church-like  character  of  the  Butte  more  fully  appeared. 
Seen  from  the  west,  it  presents  a very  wonderful  likeness 
to  an  old-time  cathedral,  of  the  Gothic  type,  and  at  a dis- 
tance might  well  be  taken  for  the  crumbling  ruins  of  some 
such  edifice,  though  of  cyclopean  proportions.  Porch, 
nave,  dome,  caryatides,  fluted  columns,  bas-reliefs,  broken 
roof  and  capitals — all  are  there  in  shapes  more  or  less  per- 
fect, and  the  illusion  was  very  striking  in  the  shadowy 
twilight.  The  Butte  itself,  like  most  others  there,  is  a 
vast  mass  of  sandstone,  covered  with  tenacious  blue  clay, 
both  of  which  are  being  constantly  chiseled  down  by  wind 
and  rain.  These  buttes  all  seemed  either  to  have  been 
upheaved  from  the  dead  level  around  them,  or  else  to 
be  the  surviving  portions  of  great  mountain  chains,  from 
which  the  earth  has  been  washed  or  blown  away,  leaving 
their  skeletons — so  to  speak — behind  in  solitary  gran- 
deur. The  latter  theory  seemed  more  probable,  judging 
by  the  general  direction  of  the  buttes  themselves.  Much 
of  the  scenery  about  here  for  a hundred  miles  or 
so,  was  enlivened  by  sandstone  bluffs,  cut  and  chiseled 
by  the  elements  into  castles,  fortresses,  etc.,  that  frowned 
majestically  at  us  in  the  distance ; but  we  were  only  too 
glad  to  quit  their  grandeur  and  sublimity,  that  turned 
only  to  barren  rocks  as  we  approached,  and  to  hail  some 
signs  of  cultivation  again  as  we  neared  Fort  Bridger.  No 
doubt  the  wind  has  been  an  important  agency  in  fashion- 
ing all  these,  though  scarcely  to  the  extent  that  is  claimed 
by  some  travellers.  In  Bowles’  “ Across  the  Continent ,” 
he  tells  a story  about  a wind-storm  down  in  Colorado, 
7* 


154 


LIFE  IN  A STAGE-COACH 


that*  dashed  the  sand  against  a window  so  furiously,  that 
a common  pane  of  glass  was  converted  into  “ the  most 
perfect  of  ground  glass,”  in  a single  night!  We  met  a 
good  many  Coloradoans,  who  were  laughing  at  this 
“ yarn,”  and  were  told  to  set  it  down  among  other  good 
“liock}'  Mountain’  stories.  The  fact  is,  people  who  live 
out  there  on  those  vast  Plains,  or  among  those  great 
Mountains,  become  demoralized  with  the  amplitude  of 
everything ; and  when  they  attempt  to  narrate,  uncon- 
sciously— I suppose — get  to  exaggerating.  Not  inten- 
tionally ; of  course  not.  But  bigness  “ rules  the  hour,” 
and  we  early  learned  to  distrust — and  discount  largely — 
most  of  the  extraordinary  stories  we  heard. 

We  reached  Fort  Bridget’  late  at  night  (Oct.  8th), 
and  found  ourselves  pretty  well  jaded,  both  in  body  and 
mind.  We  had  been  four  days  and  nights  continuously 
on  the  road  since  leaving  Denver,  and  in  that  time  had 
made  four  hundred  and  eighty  miles.  This  was  the 
hardest  ride  by  stage-coach  we  had  had  yet,  and  alto- 
gether was  a pretty  fair  test  of  one’s  power  of  endurance. 
We  became  so  accustomed  to  the  coach,  that  wre  could 
fall  asleep  almost  any  time  ; but  slumber  in  a stage-coach, 
or  rather  “ mountain  mud-wagon,”  is  only  a poor 
apology  for  “tired  nature’s  sweet  restorer,”  after  all. 
The  first  night  out,  there  being  but  five  of  us,  four  each 
“pre-empted”  a corner,  while  the  fifth  man  “camped 
down”  on  the  middle  seat.  Along  about  Up.  m.  we 
struck  a piece  of  extra  good  road,  the  conversation  grad- 
ually wound  up,  each  settled  back  into  his  great-coat  and 
robe,  and  presently  wre  wrereall  fairly  off  into  dreamland. 
A half  hour  or  so  rolls  by,  when  bump  goes  the  coach 
against  an  obstinate  rock,  or  chuck  into  a malicious  mud- 
hole  ; your  neighbor’s  head  comes  bucking  against  you, 
or  you  go  bucking  wildly  against  him ; the  man  on 


ITS  MYSTERIES  AND  MISERIES 


155 


the  middle  seat  rolls  off  and  wakes  up,  with  a growl 
or  objurgation,  that  seems  half  excusable ; your  friends 
on  the  front  seat  get  their  legs  tangled  and  twisted  up 
with  yours,  or  you  get  yours  twisted  and  tangled  up 
with  theirs — you  don’t  exactly  know  which  ; and,  in 
short,  everybody  wakes  up  chaotic  and  confused,  not  to 
say  dismal  and  cross.  Of  course  you  try  it  again  after  a 
while,  you  wrap  your  robes  still  better  about  you,  you 
adjust  your  legs  more  carefully  than  before,  and  settling 
down  again  mto  your  corner,  think  now  you  will  surely 
get  a good  sleep.  However,  you  hardly  get  to  nodding 
fairly,  before  there  comes  a repetition  of  your  former  dis- 
mal experiences,  and  so  the  night  wears  on  like  a hideous 
dream.  A series  of  unusual  jolts  and  bumps  disgusts 
every  one  with  even  the  attempt  to  sleep,  and  presently 
all  hands  drift  into  a general  talk  or  smoke.  The  his- 
tory of  one  night  is  the  wretched  history  of  all- — only 
each  successive  one,  as  you  advance,  becomes  “a  little 
more  so.”  Long  before  reaching  Fort  Bridger,  we  were 
in  a sort  of  a half-comatose  condition,  with  every  bone 
aching,  and  every  inch  of  flesh  sore,  and  with  the  romance 
of  stage-coaching  gone  from  us  forever.  How,  if  a man’s 
body  were  made  of  india-rubber,  or  his  arms  and  legs 
were  telescopic,  so  as  to  lengthen  out  and  shorten 
up,  perhaps  such  continuous  travelling  would  not  be 
so  bad.  But,  as  it  is,  I confess,  it  was  a great  weariness 
to  the  flesh,  and  looking  back  on  it  now,  with  the  Pacific 
Railroad  completed — its  express  trains  and  palace-cars  in 
motion — I don’t  really  see  how  poor  human  nature  man- 
aged to  endure  it.  Conversation  is  a good  tiling  per  se , 
but  most  men  converse  themselves  out  in  a day  or  two. 
So,  a good  joke  or  a popular  song  helps  to  fill  the  hiatus 
somewhat,  and  accordingly  we  buried  “John  Brown,” 
and  “ Rallied  round  the  flag,”  and  “ Marched  through 


156 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  SMOKING — 


Georgia,”  day  after  day,  until  they  got  to  be  a “ bore,’ 
even  to  the  most  severely  patriotic  among  us.  Our  only 
constant  and  unfailing  friends  were  our  briar-wood  pipes, 
and  what  a corps  de  reserve  they  were  ! Possibly  smok- 
ing has  its  evils — I don’t  deny  it — but  no  man  has  thor- 
oughly tested  the  heights  and  depths  of  life,  or  shall  I 
say  its  altitudes  and  profundities,  its  joys  and  its  sorrows, 
its  mysteries  and  miseries — especially  stage-coaching — 
who  has  not  bowed  at  the  shrine  of  Killykinnick,  and 
puffed  and  whiffed  as  it  pleased  him.  There  is  such 
comfort,  and  solace,  and  philosophy  in  it,  when  sojourn- 
ing on  the  Plains,  or  camped  down  among  the  Mountains, 
or  cast  away  in  a stage-coach,  that  all  the  King  Jameses 
and  Dr.  Trasks  in  the  universe,  I suspect,  will  never 
be  able  to  overcome  or  abolish  it. 

Our  horses  were  usually  steady-going  enough,  the 
splendid  teams  of  the  Plains  ; but  one  night,  just  before 
reaching  Fort  Bridger,  we  had  a team  of  fiery  California 
mustangs,  never  geared  up  but  once  before,  and,  of  course, 
they  ran  away.  The  road  was  slightly  descending,  but 
pretty  smooth,  and  for  the  time  our  heavy,  lumbering 
mountain  mud-wagon  went  booming  along,  like  a ship 
under  full  sail.  Presently,  too,  the  lead-bars  broke,  and 
as  they  came  rattling  down  on  the  heels  of  the  leaders, 
we  had  every  prospect  for  awhile  of  a general  over-turn 
and  smash-up.  But  our  driver,  a courageous  skillful  Jehu, 
“ put  down  the  brakes,”  and  at  length  succeeded  in  halt- 
ing his  runaways,  just  as  we  approached  a rocky  precipice, 
over  which  to  have  gone  would  have  been  an  ugly  piece 
of  business.  We  expected  an  upset  every  minute,  with 
all  its  attending  infelicities  ; but  luckily  escaped. 

We  halted  at  Fort  Bridger  two  or  three  days,  to  in- 
spect this  post  and  consider  its  bearings,  and  so  became 
pretty  well  rested  up  again.  Some  miles  below  the 


FORT  BRIDGER-  IT) 7 

Fort,  Green  River  subdivides  into  Black’s  and  Smith’s 
Forks,  and  the  valleys  of  both  of  these  we  found  contained 
much  excellent  land.  Judge  Carter,  the  sutler  and  post- 
master at  Bridger,  and  a striking  character  in  many  ways, 
already  had  several  large  tracts  under  cultivation,  by  way 
of  experiment,  and  the  next  year  he  expected  to  try 
more.  His  grass  was  magnificent ; his  oats,  barley,  and 
potatoes,  very  fair ; but  his  wheat  and  Indian  corn 
wanted  more  sunshine.  The  post  itself  is  7,000  feet 
above  the  sea,  and  the  Wall  sat  ch  Mountains  just  beyond 
were  reported  snow-capped  the  year  round.  Black’s 
Fork  runs  directly  through  the  parade-ground,  in  front 
of  the  officers’  quarters,  and  was  said  to  furnish  superb 
trout-fishing  in  season.  In  summer,  it  seemed  to  us, 
Bridger  must  be  a delightful  place;  but  in  winter,  rather 
wild  and  desolate.  Apart  from  the  garrison,  the  only 
white  people  there,  or  near  there,  were  Judge  Carter  and 
his  employees.  A few  lodges  of  Shoshones,  the  famous 
Jim  Bridger  with  them,  were  encamped  below  the  Fort ; 
but  they  were  quiet  and  peaceable.  The  Government 
Reservation  there  embraced  all  the  best  lands  for  many 
miles,  and  practically  excluded  settlements ; otherwise  no 
doubt  quite  a population  would  soon  spring  up.  Sage- 
hens  abounded  in  the  neighboring  “ divides,”  and  we 
bagged  several  of  them  during  a day's  ride  by  ambulance 
over  to  Smith’s  Fork  and  return.  We  found  them  larger 
and  darker,  than  the  Kansas  grouse  or  prairie-chicken ; 
but  no  less  rich  and  gamey  in  taste.  Maj.  Burt,  in  com- 
mand at  Bridger,  was  an  enthusiastic  sportsman  ; but  our 
ambulance  broke  down  seven  miles  out,  and  we  had  to 
foot  it  back  after  dark. 

We  were  now  in  Utah  proper,  and  Judge  Carter  was 
Probate  Judge  of  the  young  county  there.  A Virginian 
by  birth,  from  near  Fairfax  Court-House,  he  enlisted  in 


i:>8 


JUOGE  CARTER ECHO  CANON — 


the  army  at  an  early  age,  and  served  as  a private  for 
awhile  in  Florida.  It  was  a romantic  freak,  and  his 
friends  soon  had  him  discharged ; but  he  still  continued 
with  the  army,  as  purveyor  or  sutler.  Subsequently, 
he  accompanied  our  troops  to  California  ; but  afterwards 
returned  east,  and  followed  Albert  Sidney  Johnston  to 
Utah  in  1858.  When  in  that  year  Fort  Bridger  was 
established,  he  was  appointed  sutler,  and  had  continued 
there  ever  since.  Gradually  his  sutler-store  had  grown 
to  be  a trade-store  with  the  Indians,  and  passing  emi- 
grants; and  in  1868  he  reported  his  sales  at  $100,000  per 
year,  and  increasing.  lie  was  a shrewd,  intelligent  man, 
with  a fine  library  and  the  best  eastern  newspapers,  who 
had  seen  a vast  deal  of  life  in  many  phases  on  both  sides 
of  the  continent,  and  his  hospitality  was  open-handed 
and  generous  even  for  a Virginian. 

We  left  Fort  Bridger  October  12th,  at  10  p.m.,  in  the 
midst  of  gusty  winds  that  soon  turned  to  rain,  and 
reached  Salt  Lake  City  the  next  night  about  midnight; 
distance  120  miles.  We  halted  for  breakfast  at  the  head 
of  Echo  Caaon,  and  were  at  a loss  to  account  for  the  air 
of  neatness  and  refinement,  that  pervaded  the  rude 
station,  until  we  noticed  Scott’s  Marmion  and  the  Bible 
lying  on  a side  shelf.  Two  nice  looking  ladies  waited  on 
the  table,  and  it  is  safe  to  conclude  a taste  for  literature 
and  religion  will  keep  people  civilized  and  refined  almost 
anywhere.  Echo  Canon  itself  proved  to  be  a narrow  rocky 
defile,  some  thirty  miles  long  through  the  heart  of  the  moun- 
tains there,  with  a little  brawling  creek  flowing  through  it. 
Its  red  sandstone  walls  mostly  tower  above  you  for  several 
hundred  feet,  and  in  places  quite  overhang  the  road. 
Here  in  1857-8,  Brigham  Young  made  his  famous  stand 
against  the  United  States,  and  flooded  the  canon  by 
damming  the  creek  at  various  points.  The  remains  of 


1 


HOW  NOT  TO  DO  IT — 


159 


his  darn,  and  of  variouL  rude  fortifications,  were  still 
perceptible  ; but  Judge  Carter  reported  them  all  of  small 
account,  as  Johnston’s  engineers  knew  of  at  least  two 
other  passes,  by  either  of  which  they  could  have  flanked 
the  Mormon  position,  and  so  entered  the  valley.  He 
said,  our  troops  should  have  marched  at  once  on  Salt 
Lake,  without  halting  at  Bridger  as  they  did ; but  the 
Mormons  showed  fight,  and  our  commanding  officer — 
not  liking  the  looks  of  things — called  a council  of  war, 
after  which,  of  course,  we  did  nothing.  Councils  of  war, 
it  is  well-nigh  settled,  never  do.  Clive,  that  brave 
soldier  of  his  time,  never  held  a council  of  war  but 
once,  and  then  made  his  fortune  by  disregarding  its  deci- 
sion. When  Sidney  Johnston  assumed  command,  late 
in  the  fall  of  1857,  he  had  no  orders  to  advance ; and, 
therefore,  inferred  he  was  wanted  merely  to  maintain  the 
status  quo  ! Accordingly  he  made  haste  to  do  nothing, 
and  soon  after  went  into  wdnter-quarters.  Meanwhile, 
Brigham — unmolested  by  our  show  of  force — waxed  fat 
and  kicked.  The  next  spring  a compromise  was  effected, 
which  like  most  other  “ compromises  ” decided  nothing, 
and  left  the  “ saints  ” as  saucy  as  ever.  Judge  C.  knew  all 
the  men  of  that  troubled  period  well,  especially  Army  peo- 
ple ; and  said  he  had  long  th ought,  that  the  reason  why 
the  troops  were  not  ordered  forward  was,  because  Davis, 
Floyd,  & Co.,  were  already  looking  ahead  to  secession  in 
the  near  future,  and  did  not  care  to  establish  coercion  as  a 
precedent.  They  feared  such  a precedent  might  be  quo- 
ted against  their  own  “ sovereign  ” States,  in  such  a con- 
tingency, and  so  managed  to  have  the  Army  instructed 
How  not  to  do  it,  until  Brigham  found  a convenient  loop- 
hole, and  crept  out  of  the  scrape  himself.  Yerily,  the 
ways  of  politicians  are  “ past  finding  out ! ” 

Past  Echo  Canon,  we  struck  Weber  Valley,  and  here 


100 


wp:ber  valley — 


found  ourselves  at  last  thoroughly  among  the  Mormons. 
Fine  little  farms  dotted  the  valley  everywhere,  and  the 
settlements  indeed  were  so  numerous,  that  much  of  the 
valley  resembled  rather  a scattered  village.  The  little 
Weber  River  passes  down  the  valley,  on  its  way  to  Great 
Salt  Lake,  and  its  waters  had  everywhere  been  diverted, 
and  made  to  irrigate  nearly  every  possible  acre  of  ground. 
Fine  crops  of  barley,  oats,  wheat,  potatoes,  etc.,  appeared 
to  have  been  gathered,  and  cattle  and  sheep  were  grazing 
on  all  sides.  The  people  looked  like  a hardy,  industrious, 
thrifty  race,  well  fitted  for  their  stern  struggle  with  the 
wilderness.  Everybody  was  apparently  wTell-fed  and 
well-clad,  though  the  women  had  a worn  and  tired  look, 
as  if  they  led  a dull  life  and  lacked  sympathy.  Children 
of  all  ages  and  sizes  flocked  about  the  gates  and  crowded  the 
doorway,  and  to  all  appearances  they  were  about  the  same 
frolicking  youngsters  that  we  have  east,  though  they  seemed 
less  watched  and  cared  for.  Near  the  head  of  the  valley, 
we  saw  several  coal-drifts  that  had  already  been  worked 
considerably,  and  wrere  told  that  these  mines  supplied  all 
the  coal  then  used  in  Utah,  though  it  was  thouglut  coal 
would  soon  be  found  elsewhere.  It  was  of  a soft  bitu- 
minous character,  far  from  first-class,  but  nevertheless 
invaluable  in  the  absence  of  something  better. 

Just  at  dark,  we  found  ourselves  at  the  head  of 
Farley’s  Canon,  and  still  several  miles  distant  from  Salt 
Lake  City.  Snow-flakes  had  sifted  lazily  downward  all 
day,  but  at  night-fall  they  changed  to  sleet,  which 
thickened  presently  into  a regular  snow-storm,  and  soon 
the  roads  usually  so  good  became  heavy  and  slushy.  In 
many  places  the  track  was  merely  a roadway,  quarried 
out  of  the  rocky  bluffs,  with  a swollen  and  angry  rivulet 
below  ; and  as  we  wound  cautiously  along  this,  both  the 
coach  and  horses  were  constantly  slipping  and  sliding. 


IN  A SNOW  STORM 


101 


Only  a week  before,  in  a similar  snow-storm,  the  stage- 
horses  lost  their  foot-hold  here,  and  a crowded  coach — 
team  and  all — went  crashing  down  into  the  creek  below. 
I had  no  fancy  for  this  sort  of  an  experience ; but  when, 
soon  after  dark,  we  saw  the  driver  light  up  his  side-lamps 
for  the  first  time  since  leaving  the  Missouri,  I con- 
cluded that  our  chances  for  an  “ upset  ” at  last  were 
perhaps  improving.  L.  got  nervous,  and  being  some- 
what mathematical  in  his  turn  of  mind,  fell  to  calculating 
how  far  it  was  down  to  the  water  and  rocks,  and  what 
would  be  the  probable  results  of  plunging  down  there 
quite  miscellaneously.  But  I was  half  sick  and  thor- 
oughly tired  out — in  that  worn  and  jaded  condition, 
where  a man  becomes  fairly  indifferent  as  to  what  may 
happen — and  at  length,  as  L.  averred,  went  soundly  to 
sleep,  though  I had  no  recollection  afterwards  of  any- 
thing but  dozing.  I only  know  that  when  the  horses 
again  struck  a trot,  as  we  began  to  descend  the  canon 
westward,  I roused  up  shivering  with  cold  ; and  was  only 
too  glad,  when  far  away  in  the  distance  our  driver  pointed 
out  the  lights  of  Salt  Lake  City,  twinkling  through  the 
darkness.  It  seemed  then,  as  if  the  coach  never  would  get 
there.  But  at  last  the  farms  thickened  into  suburbs,  and 
the  houses  into  streets,  and  a little  before  midnight  we 
drew’  up  and  halted  at  the  Salt-Lake  House.  A smart- 
looking colored  man,  acting  both  as  porter  and  night- 
clerk,  showed  us  to  a comfortable  room,  and  I need 
scarcely  say  wre  retired  at  once.  What  a luxury  it  w’as, 
to  get  between  clean  sheets  once  more,  and  stretch  our 
cramped  up  limbs  wholly  out  again,  ad  libitum ! Ho 
one  but  an  Overland  stage-passenger  can  fully  appreciate 
the  dowmy  comfort  of  a bed,  or  truly  sleep  almost  the 
sleep  that  know’s  no  waking.  IIow  we  did  sleep  and 
stretch  ourselves,  and  stretch  ourselves  and  sleep  that 


1G2 


A GOOD  SLEEP. 


night ! It  seemed  almost  as  if  to  sleep  was  the  chief  end 
of  life,  and  we  made  the  most  of  our  pillows  accord- 


CHAPTER  X. 


AT  SALT  LAKE  CITY. 


UR  first  day  in  Salt  Lake  city  (Oct.  14)  was  Sun- 


. day,  and  of  course  we  rose  late — I to  find  myself 
stiff  and  ill.  A package  of  letters  from  the  east,  and  a 
bath  near  noon,  set  me  up  somewhat,  and  when  the  gong 
sounded  at  1,  p.  m.  we  went  down  to  dinner.  Here 
everything  was  profuse  and  excellent,  the  vegetables  and 
fruits  especially.  But  apart  from  the  table,  the  Salt  Lake 
House  proved  indifferent,  though  the  only  hotel  in  the 
city.  Its  rooms  were  small  and  dingy,  and  its  appoint- 
ments of  the  plainest,  though  its  rates  for  every  thing 
were  all-sufficient.  The  policy  of  the  saints  had  been 
opposed  to  Gentile  travel,  and  hence  no  hotels  at  all  were 
allowed  at  first.  But  subsequently  Brigham  Young  built 
the  Salt  Lake  House,  and  leased  it  to  a Mr.  Little — our 
three-wived  landlord  - and  that  paid  so  well,  he  was  about 
erecting  a new  and  enlarged  one,  commensurate  with  the 
wants  and  business  of  the  city. 

After  dinner,  as  the  sun  was  out  brilliantly  and  the  air 
bracing,  we  concluded  to  take  a short  stroll.  Our  snow- 
storm of  the  day  before  in  the  mountains  had  been  only 
an  affair  of  an  inch  or  two  here,  and  what  had  fallen  was 
already  fast  disappearing.  A walk  of  a square  or  two 
soon  revealed  the  unique  and  wonderful  beauty  of  this 
far-famed  town.  Its  streets,  eight  rods  wide  with  broad 
foot-walks,  cross  each  other  at  right  angles,  and  down 


SALT  LAKE  CITY — 


164: 

each  side  course  clear  and  rippling  streams,  fresh  from 
the  neighboring  mountains.  These  spacious  streets 
divide  the  city  into  squares  or  blocks  of  ten  acres  each, 
which  are  in  turn  subdivided  into  homestead  lots  of  an 
acre  and  a quarter  each,  except  in  the  heart  of  the  city, 
where  of  course  it  is  built  up  pretty  solidly  for  several 
blocks.  Standing  back  from  the  street  in  these  goodly 
lots  are  their  houses,  built  of  frame  or  adobe,  usually 
only  one  story  high  but  sometimes  two,  and  with  as 
many  doors  ordinarily  as  the  owner  has  wives.  These 
were  literally  embowered  in  shrubbery  and  fruit  trees,  the 
grounds  having  been  made  wondrously  fertile  by  irriga- 
tion, and  as  we  walked  along  we  could  see  the  apple, 
peach,  plum,  pear,  and  apricot  trees  loaded  down  with 
their  ripening  fruit.  The  snow  of  the  day  before  did  not 
seem  to  have  injured  any  of  them  materially,  it  was  so 
unseasonable  and  soon  gone.  So,  too,  roses  and  flowers 
in  rich  profusion  crowned  the  door-yards,  while  the  gar- 
dens beyond  seemed  heaped  with  vegetables  exquisite  in 
their  perfection  and  development.  Lofty  mountains, 
their  snow-capped  summits  glittering  in  the  sun-light, 
rimmed  the  valley  in,  whichever  wav  you  turned  ; 
while  in  the  distance,  tranquil  as  a sapphire,  flashed  the 
expanse  of  Great  Salt  Lake.  To  the  traveller  worn  with 
stage-coaching,  or  weary  from  Bitter  Creek,  no  wonder 
Salt  Lake  seems  like  Rasselas’s  Happy  Valley,  or  Para- 
dise Regained.  Imagine  to  yourself  a valley  say  fifty 
miles  north  and  south,  by  thirty  east  and  west,  crowned 
above  with  snow-clad  peaks,  thick  below  with  clustering 
farms,  its  interlacing  streams  flashing  in  the  sun-light, 
with  a fair  city  of  fifteen  or  twenty  thousand  people 
gleaming  in  the  midst,  embowered  in  fruit  and  shade- 
trees,  and  you  may  form  some  conception  of  the  prospect 
that  greets  you,  as  you  rattle  down  the  Wahsatch  range, 


AT  THE  MORMON  TABERNACLE 165 

and  out  into  the  valley  of  Great  Salt  Lake.  I doubt 
if  there  is  a more  picturesque  or  charming  scene  any- 
where, not  excepting  the  descent  from  the  Alps  into 
Italy.  You  involuntarily  thank  heaven,  that  “Bitter 
Creek”  is  over  and  past,  and  congratulate  yourself  on 
having  struck  civilization  once  more,  Mormon  though  it 
be. 

We  took  in  much  of  this  scene,  as  we  strolled  along, 
with  senses  keenly  alive  to  its  beauties  and  felicities. 
Flowers  never  seemed  more  fragrant;  fruits  never  so 
luscious.  In  the  clear  atmosphere  how  the  mountains 
glowed  and  towered  ! How  crisp  and  elastic  was  the 
air ! How  the  blood  went  coursing  through  one’s  veins ! 
The  streets  seemed  alive  with  people,  and  as  they  were 
moving  mainly  in  one  direction  we  followed  on,  and 
presently  found  ourselves  at  the  Mormon  Tabernacle. 
This  was  an  odd-looking,  oblong  structure,  built  of  adobe, 
and  with  no  pretence  evidently  to  any  of  the  known 
orders  of  architecture.  Its  side-walls  were  low,  and 
between  these  sprang  the  roof  in  a great  semi-circle,  with 
narrow  prison-like  windows  near  the  line  where  the  walls 
and  roof  came  together.  Outside,  the  walls  were  of  the 
usual  dun  adobe  color;  inside,  plain  white — the  whole 
utterly  devoid  of  ornamentation  whatever.  The  organ 
and  choir  occupied  the  end  near  the  street;  opposite  was 
a raised  platform,  extending  entirely  across  the  audience- 
room,  and  on  this  sat  fifty  or  more  plain-looking  men— 
the  priests  and  chief  dignitaries  of  “ the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter  Day  Saints.”  The  audience  consisted 
of  perhaps  two  thousand  people — men  women,  and 
children — all  dressed  respectably,  and  though  the 
average  of  intelligence  was  not  high,  yet  as  a whole  they 
were  a better  appearing  people  than  we  had  been  led  to 
expect.  This  edifice  was  their  old  tabernacle ; the  new 


166 


A MORMON  PREACHER 


/ 


tabernacle,  an  enormous  structure  on  much  the  same 
plan,  but  with  a capacity  of  ten  or  twelve  thousand 
souls,  was  not  yet  completed,  though  w^ell  under  way. 
Their  great  Temple  had  not  yet  progressed  beyond  the 
foundation  stones,  and  there  seemed  to  be  much  doubt 
whether  it  ever  would.  Its  plan,  however,  is  on  a 
magnificent  scale,  and  if  ever  completed,  it  will  doubtless 
be  one  of  the  greatest  edifices  on  the  continent. 

Religious  services  had  already  begun,  and  we  found 
a Mr.  Nicholson,  a returned  missionary  from  England, 
expatiating  at  the  desk  with  much  fervor.  We  were  too 
late  for  his  text,  but  found  him  discussing  at  length  the 
evidences  and  undeniability  of  their  peculiar  doctrines. 
He  was  a fluent,  but  vapid  speaker,  and,  with  all  our  curi- 
osity to  hear  him,  soon  became  very  tiresome.  The  gist 
of  his  argument  was,  that  the  saints  knew  for  themselves, 
in  their  own  hearts,  that  Mormonisin  was  true,  and, 
therefore,  that  no  Gentile  (or  outside  unbeliever)  could 
possibly  disprove  it.  He  said,  “ My  brethren,  we  know 
our  doctrines  to  be  true,  yea  and  amen,  forever.  They 
have  come  to  us  by  express  revelation  from  heaven,  and 
we  have  tested  them  in  our  own  experience ; and,  there- 
fore, to  argue  against  them  is  the  same  as  to  argue 
against  the  multiplication-table,  or  to  doubt  logic  itself. 
Yes,  our  priesthood,  from  Brother  Brigham  down,  is 
God’s  own  appointed  succession,  and  whoever  rejects  its 
teachings  will  be  damned  for  time  and  eternity.”  He 
iterated  and  reiterated  these  crude  and  common-place 
ideas  for  an  hour  or  more  ad  nauseam , until  finally 
Brigham  Young  (who  presided)  stopped  him,  and  ordered 
the  sacrament  administered.  This  consisted  only  of  bread 
and  water,  passed  through  the  audience,  everybody  par- 
taking of  the  elements.  This  over,  singing  followed,  in 
which  all  participated,  the  chief  functionaries  leading. 


A SHARP  MORMON 


167 


Now  came  another  “ returned  missionary,”  whose  name 
we  missed.  He  talked  for  twenty  minutes  or  more,  in  a 
very  loose  and  rambling  way,  about  the  work  in  England 
and  Wales,  and  evidently  was  regarded  as  a rather  “ weak 
brother,”  to  say  the  least  of  him.  The  next  speaker  was 
George  Q.  Cannon,  a leading  dignitary  of  the  church, 
and  a man  of  decided  parts  in  many  ways.  He  is  an 
Englishman  by  birth,  and  for  awhile  after  arriving  here 
served  Brigham  Young  as  secretary.  Now  he  was  a 
stout,  hearty  looking  man,  in  his  prime,  with  good  fron- 
tal developments,  and  impressed  us  as  the  smartest 
Mormon  on  the  platform — Brigham,  perhaps,  excepted. 
He  spoke  for  nearly  an  hour,  delivering  a calm,  connected, 
methodical  address,  and  evidently  moved  his  audience 
deeply.  The  substance  of  his  discourse  was,  that  they  as 
a church  were  blessed  beyond  and  above  all  other  churches, 
because  they  had  a genuine  priesthood,  appointed  by 
God  himself,  and  in  constant  communication  with  Him. 
“ Other  churches,”  he  said,  “ in  their  decadence  had 
dropped  this  doctrine,  and  accordingly  had  lost  their 
spirituality  and  power.  But  Joseph  Smith,  in  the  ful- 
ness of  time,  found  the  Book  of  Mormon,  where  God 
had  concealed  it,  and  so  became  His  vice-gerent  on 
earth.  Brother  Joseph  selected  Brigham  Young,  Heber 
Kimball,  and  Orson  Pratt,  as  his  co-workers,  and  through 
these  and  others  Jehovah  now  communicates  his  unchang- 
ing will  to  the  children  of  men.  These  great  and  good 
men  speak  not  themselves,  but  the  Holy  Ghost  in  and 
through  them.  What  we  shall  speak,  we  know  not,  nor 
how  we  shall  speak  it ; but  God  inspires  our  hearts  and 
tongues.  Ofttimes  we  are  moved  to  declare  things,  that 
are  seemingly  incredible.  If  left  to  ourselves,  ^ve  would 
prefer  not  to  declare  them.  But  Jehovah  speaks 
through  us — we  are  but  his  mouth-pieces — and  what  are 


168 


MORMON  SERMONS 


we  to  do?  We  must  proclaim  His  solemn  revelations, 
and  to-day  I tell  you,  brothers,  what  Brother  Brigham 
has  often  said  before,  that  the  time  is  not  distant — nay, 
is  near  at  hand — when  the  North  and  South  will  both 
call  upon  Brigham  Young  and  his  holy  priesthood  to 
come  and  help  them  re-establish  free  constitutional  gov- 
ernment there.  We,  here  in  Utah,  have  the  only  free 
and  Christian  government  upon  the  earth,  and  God  has 
revealed  it  to  us,  that  His  holy  church  shall  yet  occupy 
and  possess  the  continent.  Some  of  you  may  doubt  this, 
and  Gentiles  especially  may  mock  at  and  deride  it.  But 
Jehovah  has  so  spoken  it,  to  Brother  Brigham  and  others, 
and  many  now  here  will  yet  live  to  see  this  fulfilled. 
Heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away,  but  my  words  shall 
not  fail,  saith  the  Lord!”  All  this,  and  much  more  of 
the  same  purport,  he  uttered  with  the  greatest  solemnity, 
as  if  devoutly  believing  it,  and  his  audience  received  it 
with  a hearty  chorus  of  “ amens.”  There  was  more  sing- 
ing, and  then  Brigham,  who  had  presided  over  the  meet- 
ing as  a sort  of  moderator,  dismissed  the  congregation 
with  the  usual  benediction.  We  had  hoped  to  hear  him 
speak  also,  as  their  great  chief  and  leader ; but  he  was 
ailing  that  day,  and  so  disappointed  us. 

The  speaking,  as  a whole,  scarcely  rose  above  medioc- 
rity, except  perhaps  Mr.  Cannon’s.  It  was  noisy  and 
common-place,  without  logic  or  symmetry,  and  would 
have  provoked  most  eastern  audiences  to  ridicule,  rather 
than  led  to  conviction.  Mr.  Cannon  evinced  much 
natural  ability ; but  all  seemed  quite  illiterate,  their 
rhetoric  limping  badly,  and  their  pronouns  and  verbs 
marrying  very  miscellaneously.  But  little  was  said  about 
their  “ peculiar  institution  ’’  of  polygamy,  though  it  was 
alluded  to  once  or  twice,  and  its  sacredness  assumed. 
The  singing  was  strong  and  emotional,  and  swept  through 


THE  MOUNTAIN  FEVER 


1(39 


the  tabernacle  a mighty  wave  of  praise.  Of  course,  it 
lacked  culture ; but  then  there  were  passionate  and 
glowing  hearts  back  of  it,  for  all  sang  “ with  the  spirit,” 
if  not  a with  the  understanding  also.”  Their  fine  organ 
we  missed  hearing,  as  it  was  then  out  of  order.  A new 
and  much  larger  one  was  building  for  the  new  taberna- 
cle, by  workmen  from  abroad,  and  this  it  was  claimed 
was  going  to  be  bigger,  if  not  better,  than  the  great  one 
at  Boston.  Let  the  Hub  look  to  her  laurels! 

The  next  morning  I found  myself  down,  with  what 
is  termed  out  there  the  Mountain  Fever.  And  so  this 
was  the  explanation  of  what  had  troubled  me  occasionally, 
even  before  leaving  Denver.  I had  struggled  desperately 
against  it  for  a fortnight,  but  now  surrendered  at  discretion, 
and  was  taken  to  Camp  Douglas — the  military  post  north 
of  the  city — where  I found  sympathizing  comrades  and  a 
hearty  welcome.  This  Mountain  Fever  seems  to  be  an 
ugly  combination  of  the  bilious  and  typhoid,  with  the 
ague  thrown  in,  and  often  pays  its  respects  to  overland 
travellers,  unless  they  'are  very  careful.  In  my  own  case  it 
yielded  readily  to  calomel  and  quinine,  but  only  after  lib- 
eral and  repeated  doses  of  each.  For  over  a fortnight 
I wrestled  with  it  there,  sometimes  hardly  knowing 
which  would  conquer ; but  a resolute  determination  not 
“to  shuffle  off  this  mortal  coil”  in  Utah,  if  I could  help 
it,  and  a kind  providence  at  last  brought  me  safely 
through.  At  first,  this  loss  of  time  was  greatly  regretted, 
as  I was  eager  to  complete  my  duties  at  Salt  Lake,  and 
push  on ; but  ultimately,  I was  not  sorry,  as  it  afforded 
an  opportunity  to  observe  and  study  the  Utah  problem, 
much  more  fully  than  I should  otherwise  have  done. 

My  first  day  out  again,  a beautiful  October  day  and 
perfect  of  its  kind,  the  Post-Surgeon  advised  a ride  in  the 
open  air.  Accordingly  Major  Grimes,  the  Post-Quarter- 
8 


170 


HOT  SULPHUR  SPRINGS 


master,  brought  round  his  buggy,  and  together  we  drove 
down  to  the  city,  and  thence  out  to  the  hot  Sulphur 
Springs.  These  are  on  the  Bear  River  road,  some  two 
or  three  miles  north  of  the  city.  The  water  here  bursts 
out  of  the  ground  at  the  foot  of  a bluff  or  mountain,  as 
thick  as  a man’s  leg,  and  runs  thence  in  a considerable 
stream  to  Great  Salt  Lake.  It  has  a strong  sulphur 
color  and  taste,  and  a temperature  sufficient  for  a warm 
bath.  Some  miles  farther  north  there  are  other  Springs 
— we  were  told — hot  enough  to  boil  an  egg.  In  the 
bath-house  adjoining,  we  found  a number  of  men  and 
boys  enjoying  the  luxury  of  a sulphur  plunge,  and  the 
place  appeared  to  be  a considerable  resort  already, 
especially  on  Sundays.  Most  passing  travellers  and  miners 
endeavor  here  to  get  rid  of  the  accumulated  dirt  of  their 
journey  hitherward,  and  to  depart  cleaner  if  not  better  men . 
A refreshment-saloon  near  by  furnished  superb  apples 
and  peaches  fresh  from  the  trees,  and  most  other  Ameri- 
can edibles,  including  our  inevitable  “ pies ; ” but  no 
drinkables,  except  tea  and  coffee.  The  patrons  of  the 
springs,  it  was  said,  complained  bitterly  of  Brigham’s 
stern,  prohibitory  liquor  laws,  but  with  little  result. 
Even  in  Salt  Lake  City  itself,  a town  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  thousand  souls,  (1866),  there  were  but  two  or 
three  drinking-saloons,  and  these,  we  were  told,  were  either 
owned  or  strictly  regulated  by  the  church  i.  e.  Brigham 
Young.  Whatever  else  the  saints  may  be,  Brigham 
intends  that  they  shall  at  least  not  be  drunkards,  if  he 
can  help  it. 

Returning  we  drove  by  the  ruins  of  the  old  city-wall, 
erected  by  the  Mormons  soon  after  they  settled  here,  of 
concrete  and  adobe,  as  a defence  against  the  Indians. 
The  growth  of  the  town  and  the  disappearance  of  the 
Indians,  rendered  it  useless  years  ago,  and  it  was  now  fast 


MORMON  MILITIA  MUSTER 


171 


falling  to  pieces,  though  no  doubt  of  service  in  its  day. 
It  was  one  of  Mr.  Buchanan’s  Salt  Lake  scarecrows  in 
1857,  but  would  not  have  stood  a half-dozen  shots  from 
an  ordinary  lield-piece,  or  even  mountain-howitzer.  The 
labor  of  erecting  it,  however,  must  have  been  prodigious, 
as  it  enclosed  originally  several  square  miles,  and  its 
remains  even  now  speak  w*ell  for  the  industry  and  enter- 
prise of  the  saints  in  those  early  times. 

Thursday,  Nov.  1st,  was  a great  gala-day  at  Salt 
Lake,  and  we  were  fortunate  to  be  there  still.  It  wras 
the  chief  day  of  their  annual  militia  muster,  and  the 
whole  country-side  apparently  turned  out.  The  place 
selected  was  a plateau  west  of  the  Jordan,  some  three 
miles  from  Salt  Lake  city.  Proceeding  thither,  we  found 
a rather  heterogenous  encampment,  with  not  much  of 
the  military  about  it,  except  in  name.  The  officers  were 
mainly  in  uniform,  but  the  men  generally  in  civilian  dress, 
and  many  without  either  arms  or  accoutrements.  As  we 
passed  through  the  encampment,  they  were  all  out  at 
company  drill.  Of  course,  there  were  many  awkward 
squads,  but  the  so-called  officers  were  the  awkward est  of 
all.  In  many  instances,  they  were  unable  to  drill  their 
men  in  the  simplest  evolutions ; but  stood  stupidly  by, 
in  brand-new  coats,  resplendent  with  brass-buttons,  while 
some  corporal  or  private,  in  civilian  dress,  “ put  the 
company  through ! ” 

Soon  after  noon,  a cloud  of  dust  and  a large  accom- 
panying concourse  of  people  heralded  the  approach  of  the 
chief  Mormon  dignitaries — in  carriages.  The  flag  of 
the  “State  of  Deseret”  floated  in  the  advance;  then 
came  the  standard  of  the  old  Nauvoo  Legion ; and  as  the 
procession  neared  the  parade-ground,  the  “ Lieutenant- 
General  Commanding  the  Militia  of  Utah”  and  a brilliant 
staff*  (chiefly  of  Brigadier-Generals)  moved  out  to  meet 


172 


BRIGADIER-GENERALS  ABUNDANT 


and  escort  the  hierarchs  in.  In  the  carriages,  were  most 
of  the  leading  Mormons  then  at  Salt  Lake.  Brigham 
himself  was  reported  absent  sick,  but  he  sent  his  state- 
carriage  instead,  with  Bishops  Kimball  and  Cannon  in  it. 
The  Lieutenant-General  and  staff,  with  the  carriages 
following,  now  rode  by  in  review,  after  which  the  troops 
formed  column  and  marched  by  in  review.  They  moved 
by  company  front,  and  being  near  the  reviewing  station, 
we  made  a rough  count  as  they  straggled  by,  and 
estimated  the  total  force  at  about  a thousand  infantry, 
five  hundred  cavalry,  and  a battery  of  artillery.  The 
cavalry  was  tolerably  mounted  ; but  the  artillery  was 
“horsed”  with  mules,  and  consisted  of  mere  howitzers, 
no  two  of  like  calibre.  The  personnel  of  the  force  was 
certainly  good ; but  everything  betrayed  an  utter  lack  of 
discipline  and  drill.  Nevertheless  the  Mormon  officials 
seemed  greatly  elated  by  the  martial  array,  and  much 
disposed  to  exaggerate  its  numbers.  Having  been 
introduced  to  his  excellency  the  Commander-in-chief, 
“Lieutenant-General  etc.,”  I took  occasion  incidentally 
to  ask  him  how  many  troops  were  on  the  field.  He- 
replied,  he  could  not  exactly  tell,  but  he  “ reckoned” 
about  three  thousand  ! Afterwards,  in  reply  to  a similar 
question,  his  Adjutant-General — a son-in-law  of  Brigham 
Young’s,  and,  of  course,  a Brigadier-General — answered, 
he  guessed  about  four  thousand  ! Other  Mormon  digni- 
taries computed  them  at  from  five  to  six  thousand,  even. 
I said  nothing,  of  course,  about  my  own  passing  “ count ; ” 
but  on  returning  to  Camp  Douglas,  found  it  substantially 
confirmed  by  a very  accurate  count,  made  by  another 
U.  S.  officer  present,  who  had  a better  opportunity. 

The  true  status  of  this  Salt  Lake  militia  appears  pretty 
clearly,  I judge,  from  the  following  conversation  with 
the  said  Lieutenant-General.  We  were  still  “on  the 


REAL  CHARACTER  OF  MILITIA — 173 

field,”  and  I had  casually  asked  him,  whether  this  was 
the  militia  of  the  Church  or  of  the  Territory  ? 

“ O,  of  the  Territory,  of  course  ! ” he  replied,  with  a 
smile  that  wTas  child-like  and  bland. 

“ But  its  officers  are  all  Mormons,  and  its  men  mostly 
so,  I believe  ? ” 

“ Why,  yes,  sir  ! ” sobering  down. 

“ Its  chief  officers,  especially,  I observe,  are  men 

high  in  the  church,  like  yourself,  Generals  C and 

Y , and  others  I see  here  ; are  they  not  ? ” 

“ Well,  yes  sir ! ” becoming  more  grave. 

“ Are  these  troops,  then,  the  quota  of  Utah,  or  only 
of  a single  county  ? ” 

“ Only  of  Salt  Lake  County.  The  other  counties  have 
similar  organizations,  but  smaller ; and  all  are  required 
to  spend  at  least  three  days  per  year  in  camp,  for  drill  and 
review.” 

“ To  whom,  however,  does  your  militia  report  ?” 

“ To  myself  only.  By  act  of  the  Territorial  Legisla- 
ture, I am  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Utah  Militia,  and 
of  course  they  take  orders  only  from  me.” 

“ Then  his  excellency,  the  governor  of  the  Territory, 
though  its  chief  executive,  has  no  power  to  call  out  the 
territorial  militia,  or  in  any  way  to  control  it  ? ” 

“ Why,  no — no — sir  ! I believe — not ! ” very  hesi- 
tatingly, and  as  if  a good  deal  confused. 

By  this  time,  he  began  to  see  the  drift  of  things 
somewhat,  and  suddenly  remembered  he  had  important 
business  elsewhere.  This  was  not  surprising  ; for  had  he 
not  already  virtually  acknowledged,  that  this  whole  mi- 
litia force — such  as  it  is — was  nothing  more  nor  less,  than 
an  auxiliary  of  the  Mormon  church,  organized  and  held 
well  in  hand  to  do  her  bidding  ? Gov.  Durkee,  the  ter- 
ritorial governor,  a few  days  afterwards  confirmed  this 


A MENACE  TO  THE  UNITED  STATES 


174 

view  of  the  subject,  and  added,  that  in  his  judgment  this 
militia  was  a standing  menace  to  our  authority  in  Utah, 
and  would  make  us  trouble  there  yet.  He  said,  in  his 
last  Annual  Message,  he  had  called  the  attention  of  the 
Legislature  to  its  anomalous  character,  and  recommended 
that  the  militia  laws  be  amended,  so  that  the  troops 
should  report  to  him,  and  that  he  be  provided  with  the 
usual  staff — Adjutant-General,  Quartermaster-General, 
Inspector-General,  etc. — the  same  as  in  all  our  other  Ter- 
ritories. The  Legislature,  however,  being  wholly  Mor- 
mon, paid  no  attention  to  his  recommendations,  and  he  did 
not  suppose  it  would  very  soon.  Ho  doubt  this  militia 
from  its  Lieutenant-General  commanding,  down,  is  a mere 
creature  of  Brigham  Young’s — Mormon  in  composition 
and  organization — Mormon  in  spirit  and  purpose — Mor- 
mon in  body,  brain,  and  soul — and  what  Brother  Brig- 
ham proposes  to  do  with  it,  it  remains  for  our  good- 
natured  Uncle  Samuel  yet  to  see.  In  case  of  a future 
collision  in  Utah,  between  United  States  and  Mormon 
authority,  we  shall  probably  soon  learn. 

Two  days  afterwards  the  encampment  broke  up,  and 
the  troops  marched  into  Salt  Lake  City,  and  so  past  the 
Bee-Hive  House,  for  Brigham’s  inspection  in  person. 
Having  business  with  his  excellency  or  reverence  (which- 
ever you  choose  to  call  him),  accompanied  by  Major 
Grimes,  I called  that  morning,  and  thus  chanced  upon 
quite  an  assemblage  of  their  chiefs  and  dignitaries. 
Among  them,  were  Heber  C.  Kimball,  George  Q.  Cannon, 
Bishop  West,  Lieut.-Gen.  Wells,  Brig.-Gen.  Clawson, 
Brig.-Gen.  Young,  (Brigham,  Jr.),  Col.  Young — another 
son — and  others,  whose  names  were  not  noted.  Brigham 
himself  met  us  at  the  door,  with  an  ease  and  dignity  that 
well  became  him,  and  after  shaking  hands  very  cordially, 
introduced  us  all  around.  Our  object  was  to  obtain 


INTERVIEW  WITH  BRIGHAM  YOUNG 


175 


certain  information  for  the  War  Department,  about 
the  region  between  Salt  Lake  and  the  Bio  Colorado  (then 
little  known),  with  a view  to  supplying  Camp  Douglas, 
and  possibly  Fort  Bridger  also,  by  that  route  hereafter, 
if  practicable,  via  the  Gulf  of  California.  The  Salt 
Lake  merchants  and  others  had  given  us  a mass  of  facts, 
or  supposed  facts,  concerning  it ; but  we  had  been  told, 
that  the  Church  had  made  surveys  and  maps  of  all  the 
country  between,  and  that  Brigham  Young  knew  more 
about  the  region  there,  than  any  other  white  man  living. 
The  problem  was  to  extract  his  information,  for  the 
public  benefit,  if  possible.  I began  by  congratulating 
him  on  the  general  appearance  of  industry  and  thrift  in 
Utah — the  wide-spread  evidences  of  their  prosperity — 
(which  one  might  safely  do) — and  then,  having  thus 
paved  the  way,  casually  asked  him  why  it  was,  that  with 
all  their  shrewdness  and  intelligence,  they  still  persisted 
in  wagoning  their  goods  and  merchandise  twelve  hundred 
miles  from  the  Missouri,  across  the  Plains  and  Mountains, 
when  they  might  strike  navigation — it  was  alleged — on 
the  Colorado  at  less  than  half  that  distance?  lie 
answered  instantly,  with  perfect  frankness,  as  if  delighted 
with  the  question : 

“It  is  extraordinary,  surely  ! For  ten  year  now,  and 
more,  I’ve  bin  tryin’  to  talk  it  into  our  people,  that  the 
Colorado  is  our  true  route.  But  Californy  has  done 
nuthin  to  open  it,  or  draw  us  toward  her,  while  New 
York  keeps  tight  hold  of  us;  and  it  is  mighty  hard  to 
change  the  course  of  trade  and  travel.”  And  then  he 
added,  by  way  of  comment,  “ When  things  git  set , it 
takes  a heap  to  alter  ’em, you  bet!  ” which  was  certainly 
excellent  “ horse-sense,”  to  say  the  least  of  it.  A philo- 
sopher— not  even  the  elder  Weller — could  have  said  it 
better.  We  discussed  the  subject  very  generally  for 


170  HE  “ DISREMEMBERS.” 

some  minutes,  he  appearing  full  of  interest ; but  presently, 
when  I began  to  inquire  more  minutely  about  the 
intervening  country,  its  roads,  resources,  distances,  etc., 
suddenly,  with  a flash  of  intelligence,  he  seemed  to 
divine  some  sinister  object,  and  at  once  began  to  “ disre- 
member”  (his  own  word)  nearly  everything  asked  him. 
He  was  positive  there  were  no  maps  or  surveys  of  that 
region  in  the  Record  Office  of  the  Church,  though 
subsequently  I received  copies  of  several  there ; and 
drew  back  into  his  shell  on  the  subject  generally,  as  far 
as  possible.  One  of  the  Bishops  present,  not  perceiving 
the  studied  ignorance  of  his  chief,  answered  several  of 
the  questions,  which  Brigham  “ disremembered,”  but 
presently  caught  his  cue  and  relapsed  into  silence.  On 
most  other  topics,  Brigham  talked  with  much  fluency 
and  politeness;  but  as  to  Southern  Utah,  we  soon  found 
he  had  no  idea  of  giving  any  information  he  could  sup- 
press, and  so  changed  the  conversation.  We  talked  for 
perhaps  an  hour,  on  a variety  of  subjects,  and  he 
impressed  me  as  anything  but  an  ignorant  man,  though 
slimly  educated.  He  believed  their  religion  to  be  the 
latest  revelation  of  God’s  will  to  man,  and  that  it  would 
yet  reform  or  supplant  all  others.  He  thought  “ plurality 
of  wives”  a Divine  arrangement,  and  essential  to  Utah, 
whatever  it  might  be  elsewhere.  It  had  given  them  the 
most  frugal  and  thrifty,  the  most  honest  and  moral 
population  on  the  earth ; and  what  more  could  be  desired  ? 
If  Congress  didn’t  like  it,  they  could  lump  it.  God 
Almighty  would  stand  by  them.  He  said,  Utah  now 
numbered  about  a hundred  thousand  souls,  and  they  were 
rapidly  increasing.  They  had  gained  three  thousand 
that  year  (1866),  by  immigration  alone,  mostly  English 
and  Welsh  ; some  years  they  got  more,  seldom  less.  He 
said  their  soil  and  climate  were  all  that  could  be  desired, 


HIS  TERSONAL  APPEARANCE- 


177 


and  claimed  that  by  judicious  irrigation  they  could  beat 
the  world,  especially  in  fruits  and  vegetables.  He  thought 
they  had  coal,  iron,  and  salt  in  abundance  ; but  did  not 
believe  their  gold  and  silver  amounted  to  much,  and  hoped 
to  Heaven  they  never  would.  Subsequently,  I learned 
from  other  sources,  that  silver  and  copper  had  been  dis- 
covered in  considerable  richness,  at  Rush  Valley  and 
elsewhere;  but  mining  operations  in  Utah,  as  yet,  had 
been  feeble.  The  Church  was  averse  to  an  influx  of 
Gentile  miners,  for  obvious  reasons;  and,  accordingly, did 
all  she  could  to  discourage  mining,  as  a business. 

This  conversation,  though  lacking  in  the  results  de- 
sired, yet  afforded  an  opportunity  for  observing  Brig- 
ham pretty  well.  Though  then  about  sixty-five,  he 
looked  at  least  ten  years  younger,  and  evidently  had 
many  years  hard  work  in  him  yet.  He  was  of  medium 
height,  stoutly  built  every  way,  and  of  late  years  inclin- 
ing to  corpulency.  His  hair  was  a sandy  red,  now  well 
sprinkled  with  gray,  and  somewhat  disposed  to  curl. 
His  eyes,  a pale  blue,  were  resolute  and  sagacious ; but 
had  a steely  look  in  them  at  times,  that  might  mean  any 
depth  of  cruelty  or  tyranny.  His  nose,  though  not  so 
pronounced  as  his  career  would  indicate,  was  never, 
theless  very  characteristic;  while  his  mouth,  though 
large  and  firm,  had  less  of  the  animal  about  it,  than  would 
naturally  be  expected.  His  under-jaw  would,  perhaps, 
strike  you  more  than  any  other  one  feature.  Heavy  and 
strong,  full  and  massive,  it  looked  like  cast-iron,  and  at 
times,  when  he  talked  of  Congress  or  of  his  enemies,  it 
would  shut  with  a snap  like  a gigantic  nut-cracker.  His 
dress  was  plain  black,  and  his  manners  altogether  unex- 
ceptionable. His  position  as  head  of  the  Mormon 
people  has  bred  the  habit  of  power,  while  his  contact 
with  representative  men  from  abroad  has  imparted  much 


178 


THE  AUTOCRAT  OF  UTAH 


of  the  elegance  and  suaviter  in  modo  of  the  man 
of  the  world ; so  that  he  would  pass  for  a pretty 
good  diplomat  almost  anywhere.  To  take  Brigham 
Young  for  a fool,  or  a mere  fanatic,  it  was  plain  to  be 
seen,  would  be  a great  mistake.  It  is  true,  he  knows 
nothing  about  grammar  or  rhetoric,  and  but  little  about 
the  dictionary  ; but  his  knowledge  of  all  the  country  there, 
and  of  human  nature,  we  found  to  be  full  and  exact,  and 
no  man  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  knows  better  how 
make  a good  bargain,  or  fill  a paying  contract.  However 
illiterate,  he  has  patience,  shrewdness,  cunning,  and 
abundance  of  hard  common-sense — “ horse-sense,”  as 
we  used  to  say  of  Grant  in  the  army — and  doubtless 
would  have  made  his  way  in  the  world,  in  whatever 
sphere  he  happened  to  drop.  If  he  had  not  become 
“ Brother  Brigham,”  great  hierarch  of  the  Mormon 
Church  and  autocrat  of  all  Utah,  worth  $25,000,000  in 
his  own  right,  (as  reported),  owning  countless  lands  and 
herds,  no  doubt  he  would  have  gravitated  into  a first- 
class  hotel-keeper,  or  a money  king  on  Wall  Street,  or  a 
great  railroad- contractor,  or  something  of  that  sort, 
requiring  keen  perceptions  and  fine  executive  abilities. 
To  deny  him  some  such  qualities,  is  evidently  preposter- 
ous. Discredit  him  in  every  way ; call  him  charlatan 
and  humbug,  if  you  please ; the  fact  still  remains,  that 
he  has  changed  an  isolated  desert  into  a land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey,  and  created  a community  of  a 
hundred  thousand  souls  devoted  to  his  will,  holding  their 
lives  and  fortunes  absolutely  at  his  bidding — and  surely 
no  mere  imbecile,  or  blunderer,  could  have  achieved  such 
results. 

We  saw  Brigham  again,  a few  days  afterwards,  one  night 
at  the  theatre.  The  Salt  Lake  Theatre  is  really  a fine  build- 
ing, and  very  creditable  to  the  city.  Its  scenery,  and  ap- 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG. 


— 


HIS  NUMEROUS  WIVES 


179 


pointments  generally,  are  unsurpassed  in  this  country, 
outside  of  a few  of  our  great  cities  East,  and  but  few  of 
our  play-houses  indeed  equal  it  even  there.  Nearly  every- 
thing about  it  has  been  imported  from  England,  at  large 
expense,  and  Englishmen  in  the  main  manage  it  now. 
The  play  the  night  we  were  there  was  of  the  kind  yclept 
Moral  Drama,  but  it  was  put  on  the  stage  with  consid- 
erable ability.  Two  “ stars  ” from  San  Francisco  took 
the  leading  characters  ; the  minor  ones  wTere  sustained  by 
the  stock-company,  most  of  whom  were  Mormon  resi- 
dents of  Salt  Lake.  Among  these  a sprightly  looking 
girl  of  seventeen  was  pointed  out  to  us,  as  a daughter  of 
Brigham  Young's,  though  on  the  bills  she  bore  a high- 
sounding  theatrical  name.  What  corresponds  to  the 
“pit  ” in  most  theatres,  is  their  dress-circle,  and  this  was 
well-filled  with  families — chiefly  women  and  children. 
The  rest  of  the  theatre  was  occupied  mostly  by  Gentiles 
and  soldiers.  What  impressed  one  particularly,  was  the 
domestic  or  family  character  of  the  whole  thing,  Men, 
women,  and  children,  were  all  there,  down  to  the  last 
baby,  and  young  misses  came  and  went  at  will,  quite 
unattended,  as  at  church  East.  Between  the  acts,  pater- 
familias and  all  munched  their  apples  and  nuts,  and  prom- 
enaded about  quite  ad  libitum  • but  during  the  performance 
everything  was  very  decorous.  In  the  very  centre 
of  the  house  were  four  long  seats,  handsomely  upholstered, 
and  “reserved”  for  Mrs.  Brigham  Young.  There  were 
“sixteen  of  her,”  as  poor  Artemus  Ward  used  to  say, 
there  that  night,  all  ordinary  looking  women,  apparently 
from  thirty-five  to  fifty  years  of  age,  and  dressed  rather 
plainly.  A fine  large  rocking-chair,  abreast  of  the  seats, 
was  pointed  out  to  us  as  Brigham’s  place  when  he  sits  with 
them.  Ordinarily  he  occupies  a private  box,  with  his 
favorite  wife,  and  did  so  that  evening  with  his  dear 


180 


HTS  MANY  CHILDREN 


Amelia.  He  paid  but  little  attention  to  the  play,  but 
most  of  the  time  was  sweeping  the  audience  with  an 
opera-glass,  or  conversing  with  a gentleman  by  his  side. 
Mrs.  Amelia  was  wrell -dressed,  but  not  richly,  and  was 
scarcely  better  looking  than  the  other  sixteen,  whom  she 
had  displaced  in  Brigham’s  affections.  Evidently  the 
Prophet  has  no  taste  for  female  beauty,  or  else  is  indiffer- 
ent to  it.  Sometimes,  between  the  acts,  he  comes  down 
and  chats  a little  with  his  domestic  flock  below,  but 
retires  to  his  box  again  when  the  play  resumes.  That 
evening,  however,  he  continued  faithful  throughout  to 
Mrs.  Amelia. 

Flanking  the  stage  were  two  long  seats,  upholstered 
somewhat  better  than  the  rest,  and  here  sat  some  twenty 
or  more  of  Brigham’s  children — of  all  sizes  and  both 
sexes.  They  were  mostly  maidens  from  ten  to  fifteen 
years  of  age,  though  some  were  only  prattling  infants  on 
their  mothers’  knees.  They  were  better  dressed  and 
brighter  looking,  than  most  of  the  young  people  present ; 
but  the  sight  was  a singular  one  for  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, and  in  Christian  America.  Altogether,  Brigham 
was  said  to  have  over  fifty  children — mostly  girls. 
Ileber  Kimball  was  credited  with  about  the  same  number, 
but  his  were  chiefly  boys — whereat  he  was  inclined  to 
joke  Brigham.  Their  wives  so-called,  were  reported  at 
the  same  number,  about  twenty-five  each.  Recently 
Brigham  had  said,  that  he  had  “ about  a dozen  or  twenty, 
he  was  not  certain  which — it  was  nobody’s  business  but 
his  own.”  But  public  opinion  at  Salt  Lake  credited  him 
with  twenty-five  or  more,  regular  and  “brevet”  together, 
when  we  were  there;  and  he  has  probably  increased  the 
number  one  or  two  per  year,  ever  since. 

Our  main  object,  however,  in  going  to  the  Theatre, 
was  to  get  a good  look  at  the  general  audience.  On  the 


A SALT  LAKE  AUDIENCE  GENERALLY. 


181 


surface,  I must  say,  this  was  genteel  and  respectable. 
There  was  no  fashion  or  “style”  about  it,  of  course; 
but  the  people  as  a whole  were  well-dressed — alwaj^s 
comfortably — and  in  the  main  looked  contented  and  well- 
to-do.  Here  and  there  a woman’s  face  however,  showed, 
unmistakable  signs  of  grief  and  anguish  ; but  there  were 
not  nearly  so  many  of  these,  as  might  be  expected.  What 
the  women’s  faces  chiefly  lacked,  was  that  air  of  spright- 
liness and  grace,  of  culture  and  refinement,  that  charac- 
terizes the  majority  of  theatre-going  ladies  East  and 
elsewhere.  There  was  an  ugly  subdued  look  about  many 
of  them,  as  if  t'iey  felt  themselves  trodden  down  and 
inferior  to  the  men — much  such  as  we  used  to  see  in  the 
negro’s  face  down  South — and  too  little  of  that  calm, 
masterful,  rounded  equipoise  of  self-respect,  which  is  the 
true  glory  of  either  man  or  woman.  Prolong  polygamy 
for  a century,  with  all  such  downward  forces  constantly 
at  work,  and  what  may  not  our  Utah  dames  and  damsels 
become  ? The  men,  on  the  other  hand,  looked  heavy  and 
coarse,  and  while  there  were  keen  sharp  faces  among  them, 
here  and  there,  that  could  have  belonged  only  to  men  of 
character  anywhere,  yet  in  too  many  instances  the  animal 
was  evidently  creeping  over  them,  and  in  the  end  would 
surely  predominate.  It  was  pitiful  to  think  how  inexora- 
bly their  higher  nature  must  suffer,  if  polygamy  contin- 
ued, unless  all  history  is  false,  and  physiology  a lie.  But 
there  are  some  things,  that  need  not  be  said  ; it  is  enough 
to  intimate  them. 


CHAPTER  XT. 


MORMON  OUTRAGES POLYGAMY,  ETC. 

S to  the  alleged  outrages  and  wrongs  by  Mormons 


against  Gentiles,  we  found  public  opinion  at  Salt 
Lake  much  divided.  The  Mormons,  as  a class,  of  course, 
all  repudiated  and  denied  them  ; while  the  Gentiles,  as 
a class,  were  equally  earnest  in  affirming  them.  Before 
arriving  there,  we  were  very  skeptical  on  this  subject ; 
but  before  leaving,  and  afterwards,  heard  so  many  ugly 
stories,  that  we  were  compelled  to  believe  somewhat  in 
them.  It  is  a delicate  subject  to  touch  at  all,  and  I 
would  fain  avoid  it  ; but  no  account  of  Salt  Lake  would 
be  complete  without  some  allusion  thereto.  Space  would 
fail  me  to  speak  of  them  at  length  ; so  that  I shall  con- 
tent myself  with  recording  only  a case  or  two,  and  from 
them  the  reader  must  judge  for  himself.  The  Mountain 
Meadow  massacre,  and  the  Brassfield  murder,  were  old 
stories  ; but  just  previous  to  our  arrival,  a party  of  Gen- 
tiles had  been  threatened  with  drowning  in  the  Jordan, 
and  indeed,  while  we  were  there,  the  atrocious  murder 
of  Dr.  Robinson  occurred.  The  editor  of  the  little 
Vidette , the  plucky  Gentile  paper  then  at  Salt  Lake, 
was  one  of  the  Gentiles  above  referred  to,  and  his  story 
was  that  a band  of  masked  men  seized  them  on  the  street 
one  night,  and  taking  them  out  to  the  Jordan  tied  them 
hand  and  foot,  and  then  gave  them  the  option — either  to 
leave  Utah  in  one  week,  or  to  be  tossed  in  and  drowned. 


LEAVE  UTAH  OR  DROWN — 


183 


Their  only  offence  was,  that  they  had  been  too  bitter 
against  Morraonism,  and  Salt  Lake  they  were  informed 
was  “ an  unhealthy  place  ” for  such  people.  They  all 
agreed,  we  believe,  to  emigrate.  But  the  Vidette  man, 
on  getting  home,  concluded  such  a promise  under  duress 
was  not  very  binding,  and  proceeded  to  strengthen  his 
conclusion  by  securing  a guard  from  Camp  Douglas. 
Loaded  down  with  revolvers,  he  went  about  his  business 
as  usual  in  the  day  time,  but  at  night  kept  within  doors, 
and  so  far  had  remained  unmolested.  The  others,  how- 
ever, as  a whole,  thought  it  safer  to  keep  their  agreement, 
and  accordingly  duly  quitted  Utah. 

The  murder  of  Dr.  Bobinson  (Oct.  22d),  it  must  be 
admitted,  was  a cold-blooded  atrocity,  worthy  only  of 
fanatics  or  savages.  He  had  come  to  Salt  Lake  origin- 
ally, as  Surgeon  or  Ass’t-Surgeon  of  a regiment  of  volun- 
teers, ordered  there  from  California  during  the  war,  to 
replace  the  Begulars  sent  east.  "When  his  regiment  was 
mustered  out,  he  concluded  to  settle  at  Salt  Lake,  and 
soon  after  “ pre-empted  ” the  quarter-section  containing 
the  Hot  Sulphur  Springs.  Associating  a Dr.  Williamson 
with  him,  who  had  also  been  in  the  army,  they  put  up  a 
bath-house  and  refreshment-saloon  at  the  Springs,  and  by 
liberal  advertising  were  soon  in  a fair  way  to  make  some 
money.  How,  all  at  once,  two  Mormons  living  near  sud- 
denly discovered  that  the  property  belonged  to  them, 
although  they  had  never  claimed  it  before,  or  regularly 
“ pre-empted  ” it,  or  made  any  “ permanent  improve- 
ment” there,  as  required  by  our  pre-emption  laws.  They 
accordingly  brought  suit  in  ejectment  against  Messrs. 
Bobinson  and  Williamson,  in  the  U.  S.  District  Court 
there ; but  before  the  cause  reached  trial,  became  con- 
vinced there  was  nothing  in  their  case,  and  concluded  to 
abandon  it.  How,  however,  Salt  Lake  City  itself  step- 


1S4 


dr.  robinson’s  murder — 


ped  in  as  plaintiff  in  the  cause,  and  claimed  the  Springs 
also  as  corporation  property,  by  virtue  of  some  old  ordi- 
nance, though  two  or  three  miles  beyond  the  city 
limits.  Immediately,  without  waiting  for  the  Court, 
Messrs.  R.  and  W.  were  declared  trespassers,  and  the 
Mayor  ordered  the  city  police  to  eject  them  from 
the  premises,  which  was  done  one  night  by  tearing  down 
the  buildings  over  their  heads,  and  dragging  them  both 
off  bodily.  This  summary  proceeding,  no  better  than  a 
riot,  naturally  created  much  excitement  among  the  Gen- 
tiles, and  was  still  being  talked  of  when  we  reached  Salt 
Lake.  Meanwhile,  Dr.  Robinson  took  it  very  coolly,  and 
moving  into  Salt  Lake,  opened  an  office  for  practice 
there,  proposing  to  abide  the  judgment  of  the  Court. 
Shortly,  however,  before  this  could  be  reached,  he  was 
roused  up  one  night  by  a man  at  his  door,  with  the 
plausible  story,  that  a friend  down  the  street  had  broken 
his  leg  and  needed  his  immediate  services,  being  already 
in  great  agony.  His  wife,  newly  married,  fearing  treach- 
ery, begged  him  not  to  go.  But  the  Doctor  felt  bound 
by  the  vows  of  his  profession,  and  while  proceeding 
forth  upon  this  supposed  errand  of  mercy  and  benevo- 
lence, he  was  waylaid  on  one  of  the  most  public  streets, 
knocked  down,  and  shot  through  the  head,  three  or  four 
times,  as  if  his  assassins  meant  to  make  sure  work  of 
their  victim.  From  the  testimony  of  those  awakened  by 
the  shots  and  his  loud  outcries,  it  appeared  there  were 
over  a half  a dozen  of  his  assassins  and  their  accessories 
— some  doing  the  bloody  work,  while  others  stood  guard 
on  the  adjacent  corners — and  yet  not  one  of  them  was 
arrested,  though  it  was  a bright  moonlight  night,  and  a 
fresh  fall  of  snow  on  the  ground.  The  city  police,  when 
sought,  were  all  found  collected  at  the  Central  Police 
Station,  as  if  purposely  out  of  the  way,  and  no  serious  or 


MORMONS  IMPLICATED — 


185 


concerted  attempt  was  made  to  track  the  murderers. 
His  watch  was  untouched  ; his  pockets,  unrifled  ; there 
was  no  evidence  that  he  had  a personal  enemy  ; and  the 
almost  universal  conviction  of  the  Gentiles  then  at  Salt 
Lake  was,  that  he  had  fallen  a victim  to  the  Mormons,  at 
the  bidding  or  instigation  of  the  Church — they  preferring 
to  end  their  action  of  ejectment  thus  summarily,  rather 
than  abide  “ the  law’s  delay,”  or  its  “ glorious  uncertain- 
ties.” Subsequently,  a leading  Mormon,  a son-in-law 
of  Brigham  Young’s,  admitted  to  me,  indeed,  that  Rob- 
inson had  probably  been  “ silenced  ” by  some  ignorant  or 
bigoted  brother  ; but  repudiated,  of  course,  all  connection 
of  the  Church  therewith,  or  responsibility  therefor. 

The  morning  after  the  assassination,  as  the  facts 
got  known,  the  Gentile  population  became  greatly  excited, 
and  for  a day  or  two  there  was  hot  talk  of  a “ Vigilance 
Committee,”  etc.  Happily,  however,  this  last  suggestion 
was  abandoned,  or  the  Mormons  would  have  extermina- 
ted them,  as  they  outnumbered  the  Gentiles  fully  six  to 
one  in  the  city,  and  immensely  more  than  that  outside 
in  the  Territory.  To  pacify  them,  however,  a coroner’s 
inquest  was  ordered,  and,  as  the  excitement  grew,  the 
City  Government  came  out  ostentatiously  with  a reward  of 
$2,000,  for  the  apprehension  and  conviction  of  the  mur- 
derers. So  intense  was  the  feeling,  Brigham  Young 
himself  thought  it  wise  to  start  a private  subscription,  and 
raised  $7,000  more  among  the  Mormon  merchants  and 
“ tender-footed  ” Gentiles.  The  sturdier  Gentiles,  how- 
ever, and  many  of  the  U.  S.  officials,  refused  to  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  this ; and  one,  at  least,  of  the  U.  S. 
Judges,  when  asked  to  sign  it,  unhesitatingly  branded 
the  wdiole  movement,  as  only  “ a cheat  and  swindle  to 
throw  dust  into  the  eyes  of  people  East.”  It  was,  how- 
ever, a shrewd  dodge,  worthy  of  such  an  old  fox,  and 


186  SHREWD  DODGE  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG 

Brigham  immediately  telegraphed  to  Gen.  Sherman,  at 
St.  Louis,  then  commanding  that  Department,  “We 
have  offered  $9,000  reward  for  Dr.  Robinson’s  murderers. 
The  church  nothing  to  do  with  it!”  No  doubt, 
when  interrogated  by  tourists  about  such  outrages  and 
wrongs  hereafter,  he  will  refer  to  that  “ $9,000  reward,” 
for  many  a day,  with  great  unction,  and  extol  his  saints 
to  the  skies  accordingly.  Of  course,  it  was  perfectly  safe 
to  “subscribe”  it;  for  it  was  never  meant,  that  any 
body  should  be  caught.  The  coroner’s  inquest  made  a 
show  of  sitting  several  dajTs,  but  nothing  came  of  their 
labors.  Some  Gentiles,  indeed,  went  so  far  as  to  retain 
Ex-Gov.  Weller,  of  California,  who  happened  then  to 
be  at  Salt  Lake,  and  he  prosecuted  the  inquiry  with 
some  vigor  ; but  the  verdict  of  the  jury  was,  “Killed  by 
some  person  or  persons  unknown.”  The  effect  of  it  all 
was,  to  deepen  the  sense  of  insecurity  in  the  minds  of  all 
Gentiles  there,  as  to  both  person  and  property,  and  to 
intensify  the  general  feeling  against  Mormonism,  which 
we  found  everywhere  throughout  Colorado,  Idaho,  Ore- 
gon, Nevada,  and  the  Pacific  Coast  generally.  It  became 
at  once  another  wall  of  division,  another  root  of  bitter- 
ness, between  Gentiles  and  Mormons  throughout  all  that 
region  ; and  will  be  sure  to  be  treasured  up  “ as  wrath 
against  a day  of  wrath,”  when  that  dark  day  comes.  And 
justice,  against  even  Brighamdom,  we  may  depend,  will 
not  sleep  forever. 

Mrs.  Robinson,  it  should  be  added,  subsequently 
returned  to  her  friends  in  California,  and  Dr.  Williamson 
left  for  the  East,  both  abandoning  their  undoubted  prop- 
erty, after  such  convincing  arguments.  The  City  imme- 
diately leased  the  Springs  and  their  appurtenances  for 
$2,000  per  year ; and  thus  this  cruel  assassination  was 


THE  FRUIT  OF  MORMON  TEACHING — 


187 


apparently  a “ paying”  operation  for  the  Saints,  what- 
ever may  be  its  barbarism,  or  however  others  fared. 

This  case  I have  given  somewhat  in  detail,  because  it 
occurred  under  my  own  eye — so  to  speak — and  I endeav- 
ored to  sift  its  facts  pretty  thoroughly  for  myself.  In 
my  Official  Report  on  Utah,  attention  was  called  to  it ; and 
whatever  else  may  be  said  or  thought  of  it,  one  thing 
seems  clear,  to  wit,  that  such  unlawful  and  wicked  acts 
are  but  the  logical  fruit  of  the  habitual  teachings  of  the 
Mormon  chiefs  and  leaders . Said  Brigham  Young  some 
time  before,  in  one  of  his  pulpit  discourses,  “Brethren, 
if  any  body  comes  here,  and  goes  to  interfere  with  our 
lands  or  women,  my  advice  is  to  send  ’em  to  hell  across 
lots.”  Said  the  editor  of  the  Salt  Lake  Telegraph , the 
chief  Mormon  paper  there,  one  day  in  my  hearing,  “ If  a 
man  comes  here,,  and  don’t  like  our  institutions,  all  he 
has  to  do  is  to  leave.  If  he  stops  here,  and  minds  his  own 
business,  he  will  get  along  well  enough — nobody  will 
molest  him.  But  if  he  goes  to  denouncing  President 
Young,  or  interfering  with  our  domestic  relations,  of 
course  he  will  get  into  trouble  mighty  quick,  you  bet ! ” 
I thought  that  a fair  statement  of  their  position ; but 
failed  to  see  wherein  it  differed  from  the  hideous  despot- 
ism down  South,  which  we  had  just  had  to  break  as  with 
a rod  of  iron,  and  dash  in  pieces  as  a potter’s  vessel.  He 
indignantly  denied,  that  Gentiles  wTere  ordinarily  ill- 
treated  or  tabooed  ; but  his  own  statement,  it  seemed  to 
me,  confessed  away  the  whole  case  substantially  of  Gen- 
tile vs.  Mormon , involving  as  it  does  a thorough  surren- 
der of  our  cherished  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press. 
This  editor  was  a bluff  and  hearty  Englishman,  about 
forty  years  of  age,  and  was  reported  engaged  to  a daugh- 
ter of  Brigham  Young’s,  only  about  seventeen.  The  cur- 
rent criticism  of  him  was,  that  he  really  believed  no  more 


188 


WIIAT  A U.  S.  JUDGE  THINKS 

in  Mormonism,  than  the  most  incorrigible  Gentile  ; but 
he  had  found  the  institution,  or  rather  “ destitution,”  (as 
Theodore  Parker  called  its  “ twin  relic,”  and  would  much 
more  have  branded  it),  to  “ pay,”  and  so  eulogized  and 
defended  it. 

Perhaps  I can  not  do  better,  than  relate  just  here  a 
rather  remarkable  conversation  I had  with  a high  judi- 
cial officer  of  the  Territory,  on  this  and  kindred  subjects. 
He  had  been  there  several  years,  was  a man  of  ability  and 
character,  and  I give  the  conversation  at  length,  because 
it  seemed  trustworthy,  and  also  because  it  will  probably 
answer  a variety  of  questions  the  reader  may  want  to  ask. 
It  took  place  in  his  own  chambers,  while  I was  at  Salt 
Lake;  and  as  no  injunction  of  secrecy  was  imposed,  or 
apparently  desired,  I see  no  objections  to  publishing  it. 
He  said  he  had  come  to  Utah  unprejudiced  against  the 
Mormons,  but  at  length  had  become  convinced,  however 
reluctantly,  that  they  had  a secret  organization — call  it 
“Thugs,”  “Danites,”  “Destroying  Angels,”  or  what  you 
will — whose  sworn  duty  it  was  to  “ put  out  of  the  way” 
any  person,  who  became  hostile  or  obnoxious  to  their 
views  or  interests.  For  a long  while  after  coming  there, 
he  had  refused  to  credit  this ; but  at  length  was  compelled 
to,  by  the  most  indubitable  evidence,  to  wit,  his  own 
multiplied  observations  and  experiences  as  a U.  S.  judge. 
He  continued  : 

“ I can’t  help  believing,  sir,  that  poor  Dr.  Robinson 
was  killed  in  this  way,  and  when  Brigham  Young's 
hypocritical  subscription-paper,  for  a reward  for  the 
arrest  of  the  assassins,  was  presented  for  my  signature, 
I indignantly  spurned  it.  I told  the  committe  in  charge, 
that  it  was  only  another  of  Brigham’s  tricks  to  throw 
dust  into  the  eyes  of  the  people  at  Washington,  and  1 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.” 


MORMON  JURIES 


180 


“Do  you  think  his  murderers  will  ever  be  discov- 
ered ? ” 

“ Suppose  they  are,  they  will  never  be  convicted. 
No  Mormon  jury  would  convict  a brother  Mormon,  in 
such  a case,  even  if  indicted,  as  everybody  knows  here. 
I know  very  well  who  murdered  poor  Brassfield  some 
time  ago,  and  where  the  Church  sent  him  abroad  to  keep 
him  out  of  the  way.  I suppose  England  would  return 
him,  under  our  extradition  laws,  if  requested.  But 
cui  bono  ? Our  juries  here  are  all  summoned  by  the 
Mormon  sheriffs,  and  the  jurors,  of  course,  are  either 
Mormons,  or  dough-face  Gentiles,  worse  than  Mormons ; 
so  that,  it  would  be  hopeless  to  expect  a righteous 
verdict.” 

“ Then  you  really  think,  the  accounts  we  get  East  of 
outrages  and  crimes  by  Mormons,  against  Gentiles  or 
apostate  Mormons,  are,  on  the  whole,  true  ? ” 

“ Why,  yes,  I am  sorry  to  say,  I fear  so — the  most 
of  them — as  true  as  holy  writ.  But  the  half  of  them 
never  come  to  light.  ‘ Dead  men  tell  no  tales.5  And 
what  do  we  know  of  the  mysteries  and  miseries  of  their 
barbarous  polygamy  ? ” 

“Do  you  think  Brigham  Young  has  much  to  do  with 
such  outrages  ? 55 

“ In  some  cases,  yes,  directly.  In  others,  only 
indirectly*,  by  his  sermons  and  addresses.  No  doubt  he 
advised,  or  at  least  suggested,  the  ‘ taking  off5  of  Brass- 
field  and  Dr.  Robinson,  to  save  trouble  and  serve  as 
examples.  So,  also,  he  was  directly  responsible  for  the 
Mountain  Meadow  massacre,  that  occurred  several  years 
ago,  when  a whole  train  of  Gentile  emigrants,  en  route 
to  California,  were  murdered  in  cold  blood,  and  their 
property  and  little  children  distributed  around  among 
the  Mormons.  They  had  offended  the  Saints  while 


190 


THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE 


passing  through  Salt  Lake,  and  this  was  their  revenge. 
This  murder  by  wholesale  they  have  always  charged 
upon  the  Indians ; but  I myself  have  seen  the  secret 
orders  for  their  massacre,  signed  ‘ By  order  of  President 
Young,  D.  H.  Wells,  Adj’t.-Gen.’  I was  in  Washing- 
ton in  the  autumn  of  1865,  and  was  at  the  White- 
House  one  day,  when  these  ordprs  were  shown  to  Andrew 
Johnson.  He  took  the  tattered  and  discolored  papers  to 
the  window,  scanned  them  closely  for  awhile,  and  when 
he  returned  them  said,  with  much  feeling,  it  was  “ high 
time  something  was  done  to  clean  out  such  scoundrels.” 
It  was  a generous  impulse,  while  it  lasted,  and  he  meant 
it,  too.  But  subsequently,  when  I saw  him  again,  in  the 
winter,  he  had  become  embroiled  with  Congress,  and 
dismissed  the  Utah  question  with  the  curt  remark,  that 
there  was  “ practical  polygamy  in  Massachusetts  too,  as 
well  as  Utah.”  The  property  of  these  Mountain 
Meadow  emigrants,  I repeat,  was  divided  up,  and 
distributed  around  among  the  Mormons.  Some  of  their 
furniture  is  in  Salt  Lake  now,  and  can  readily  be  identi- 
fied. Many  of  their  mules  were  sold  by  Capt.  II. 
— subsequently  our  delegate  to  Congress — to  the  U.  S. 
Quartermaster  then  here,  and  the  proceeds  shared  by 
himself,  Young,  Wells,  and  others.  There  is  plenty  of 
evidence  of  all  this,  that  I can  put  my  finger  on  at  any 
time ; but  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  submit  it  to  a Mor- 
mon jury,  with  any  hope  of  a conviction  now.  And  so, 
the  case  rests.” 

“ I suppose,  this  also  is  why  our  anti-polygamy  laws 
prove  to  be  a failure  ? ” 

“ Certainly,  sir  ! It  is  an  old  adage,  1 Dog  won’t  eat 
dog ! ’ There  didn’t  use  to  be  much  polygamy  here. 
But  as  soon  as  Congress  made  it  a misdemeanor  and  a 
crime,  Brigham  and  his  Bishops  set  to  work  to  get  as 


POLYGAMY ITS  PRACTICAL  WORKINGS — 191 

many  of  their  people  into  it  as  possible,  so  as  to  make  the 
enforcement  of  the  new  law  difficult,  if  not  well  nigh 
impracticable.  They  argued  very  shrewdly,  4 You  can’t 
indict  and  try  a whole  people.’  Polygamy,  indeed,  used 
to  be  only  a matter  of  taste,  and  but  little  talked  about ; 
but  now  it  is  constantly  preached,  as  a civil  and  religious 
duty,  and  all  who  can  support  more  than  one  wife  are 
proceeding  to  take  others.  The  women  objected  a good 
deal,  at  first,  and  do  still ; but  they  were  told,  it  was  a 
New  Revelation,  ‘ thus  saith  the  Lord,’  and  submission 
would  make  them  11  Queens  in  Heaven  ’ etc.,  and  so  they 
yielded.  What  else  could  they  do  in  these  mountain 
fastnesses,  with  Gown  and  Sword  both  against  them  ? ” 

“Well,  judge,  you  must  have  seen  a good  deal  of 
the  i peculiar  institution.’  What  are  its  practical 
workings  ? ” 

u Bad,  and  only  bad — every  way.  It  tends  to  make 
the  men  petty  despots  and  mere  animals,  of  course,  while 
it  degrades  American  women  to  the  level  of  the  Oriental 
harem.  Their  husbands,  so-called,  already  habitually 
think  and  speak  of  them,  as  their  ‘ women’ — not  wives — as 
you  may  have  noticed,  as  a part  of  their  goodly  possessions, 
somewhat  more  esteemed  perhaps  than  their  flocks  and 
herds,  but  not  so  much  more  either.  Affection,  sympa- 
thy, confidence — the  finer  instincts  and  feelings — all  true 
delicacy  between  husband  and  wife — are  fast  dying  out, 
and  we  have  nothing  half  so  good  to  show  for  them. 
Sometimes,  however,  a first  wife  gets  the  bit  into  her 
teeth,  and  then  the  others  have  to  stand  around,  or  leave. 
Per  contra , sometimes  the  first  wife  herself  gets  ejected. 
One  of  Heber  Kimball’s  sons  married  a second  wife  some 
time  ago,  and  soon  after  she  persuaded  his  first  wife — a 
wife  of  many  years,  with  several  children — to  vacate,  by 
three  shots  from  a revolver,  and  then  installed  herself  as 


192 


ITS  SHAMELESSNESS 


first  wife  instead ! No  doubt,  the  Saints  have  many 
a little  “ unpleasantness,”  like  this,  to  mar  their  do- 
mestic felicity  ; but  they  hush  them  up,  and  keep  quiet 
about  it.” 

“ What  about  their  polygamous  children  ? ” 

“ Why,  they  are  inferior  of  course,  in  man}7  ways,  ex 
necessitate,  as  the  fruits  of  such  a practice  always  are, 
and  must  be.  Go  to  the  City  Cemetery,  and  you  will 
find  it  a perfect  Golgotha  of  infant  graves.  If  not  feeble 
and  tainted  already  in  constitution,  they  must  speedily 
become  so ; or  else  all  History  is  false,  and  Science  a 
slander.” 

“ And  yet  those  we  have  seen  on  the  road,  and  about 
the  streets  here,  seem  bright  and  spry  enough.” 

“No  doubt.  It  is  a good  climate,  and  there  has  not 
been  time  enough  yet.  But,  then,  have  you  considered  the 
whole  foul  brood  of  downward  influences  at  work  here,  and 
what  must  be  the  logical  result  in  due  season,  by  the  very 
nature  of  things  ? Why,  with  our  population  of  a hun- 
dred thousand  souls,  we  have  not  a Free  School  yet  in  all 
Utah,  and  outside  of  this  city  scarcely  a AcAoo^-House. 
Here, we  have  a few  Ward  Schools;  but  the  teachers  are 
inferior,  and  the  rates  of  tuition,  cost  of  books  etc.,  so 
high,  that  only  the  children  of  the  better  classes  can 
attend.  Brigham  Young  has  a school  of  his  own,  in  his 
seraglio  grounds,  where  his  numerous  progeny  are  taught 
music,  dancing,  and  some  of  the  commoner  branches ; but 
the  great  bulk  of  our  rising  generation  here  are  growing 
up  in  a state  of  ignorance  and  superstition  so  dense,  as  to 
be  absolutely  inconceivable  elsewhere.  So,  too,  many  of 
the  Saints  have  two  or  more  sisters  for  wives,  at  the  same 
time.  Others,  again,  marry  their  own  blood-cousins,  and 
some  even  their  own  step-daughters.  And  instances 
exist,  where  they  have  had  mother  and  daughter  for 


JUDGE  JS  REMEDY 193 

wives,  at  the  same  time.  Now,  where  all  this  is  to  end, 
it  seems  to  me,  it  is  not  difficult  to  predict,  unless  Nature 
suspends  her  laws,  and  Evil  becomes  our  Good.” 

“It  is  certainly  very  shocking,  judge.  But  what  do 
you  propose  to  do  about  it  ? ” 

“ Well,  I would  do  something,  or  at  at  least  try  to. 
I have  thought  a good  deal  about  it,  since  I got  my  eyes 
open ; and,  first  of  all,  I would  have  Congress  authorize 
and  instruct  the  U.  S.  Marshal  here  to  summon  the  jurors 
for  the  U.  S.  Courts  direct.  By  some  strange  oversight, 
I suspect  by  Mormon  intrigue  (for  they  watch  Congress 
closely,  and  boast  they  control  it  on  all  Utah  matters 
usually),  this  was  omitted  in  our  Organic  Act,  and 
consequently  our  jury-lists  are  now  taken  from  the 
county-lists,  which  are  of  course  made  up  by  Mormon 
sheriffs.  Therefore,  all  open  and  avowed  Gentiles,  who 
have  any  back-bone  in  them,  are  left  off*,  and  we  get 
nobody  in  our  U.  S.  jury-boxes  even,  except  Mormons  and 
doughface  Gentiles.  Of  course,  such  juries  won’t  indict 
or  convict  for  polygamy,  or  any  other  offence  worth  men- 
tioning, if  a Mormon  is  to  be  mulcted  for  it.  But  if  our 
jurors  were  summoned  by  our  Marshal  direct,  out  of  the 
whole  body  of  the  Territory,  as  they  are  everywhere  else,  I 
believe,  he  could  take  good  care  to  put  only  reliable 
citizens  on  the  lists,  and  thus  give  us  juries  that  would 
indict  and  convict  in  all  necessary  or  flagrant  cases.* 

* Senator  Wade’s  Bill  (1867)  met  the  Utah  Question  somewhat 

like  this,  and  I suspect  Judge had  a finger  in  it.  So,  Senator 

Cragin’s  Bill  subsequently,  and  others  since.  The  present  imbro- 
glio in  Utah  hinges  on  this  Jury  Question,  more  than  anything  else, 
and  Congress  ought  to  settle  it  speedily,  on  a just  and  right  basis. 
Judge  McKean  may  be  in  the  wrong  technically  ; but  substantially, 
he  is  fighting  for  truth  and  justice,  and  if  he  lacks  the  necessary 
weapons,  should  be  furnished  them.  This  is  what  Senator  Freling- 
lmysen’s  Bill,  now  pending,  (1874)  proposes  well  to  do. 


194 


THE  RAILROAD  AS  A REMEDY 


“ But  would  the  Saints  meekly  consent  to  be  thus 
overslaughed,  and  ignored  ? ” 

a Of  course,  not ! The  first  verdict  we  got  and  attempted 
to  enforce,  there  would  be  a riot,  or  threatened  riot,  and 
then  we  would  have  to  fall  back  on  the  Military.  The 
Utah  Militia,  of  course,  could  not  be  depended  on  ; for  it  is 
all  officered  and  controlled  by  the  creatures  of  the  Church. 
Therefore,  we  wrould  have  to  call  on  the  United  States, 
and  it  would  be  for  Uncle  Sam  to  decide  at  last.  This, 
of  course,  would  necessitate  an  increase  of  troops  here ; 
for,  if  the  garrison  were  small,  the  Saints  might  make 
trouble.  But  give  us  a couple  of  batteries,  a regiment 
of  cavalry,  and  say  two  regiments  of  infantry,  such  as 
Sherman  6 went  marching  through  Georgia  ’ with  ; and 
Brighamdom  can  be  made  to  obey  the  law^s,  the  same  as 
Dixie,  or  be  ground  to  powder.” 

u But,  judge,  will  not  the  Pacific  Bailroad  solve  the 
problem  in  a more  excellent  way — peaceably  and  quietly 
— by  bringing  in  such  an  influx  of  Gentiles,  that  Mor- 
monism  will  be  neutralized  ? This  is  what  we  all  hope 
East?” 

“ Perhaps  so,  if  this  ‘ influx’  is  big  enough,  and  good 
enough.  But,  you  see,  the  Saints  claim  to  have  pre- 
empted about  all  the  land  here,  that  is  worth  anything, 
and  they  won’t  sell  or  lease  to  Gentiles,  unless  the  Church 
says  so.  Besides,  with  the  heavy  immigration  the  Mor- 
mons are  constantly  receiving — about  three  thousand 
this  year,  to  next  to  nothing  by  the  Gentiles,  and  their 
naturally  rapid  increase,  I fear  they  will  keep  greatly 
ahead  of  all  outsiders,  who  won’t  be  likely  to  come  and 
stay  long  where  they  will  be  ostracised  and  outlawed.  It 
isn’t  natural,  that  they  should.  Won’t  it  be  the  same,  as 
it  was  down  South  before  the  war,  and  has  been  ever 
since  ? Northern  brain  and  capital  wouldn’t  go  there, 


brigham’s  successor — 


195 


and  won’t,  because  they  believe  in  perfect  freedom  of 
speech  and  of  the  press — absolute  security  of  person  and 
property — and  won’t  settle  where  these  are  wanting. 
How  then  can  we  expect  them  to  emigrate  here,  where 
we  have  no  true  enjoyment  of  either  ? What  sensible 
man  would  come  to  Utah,  or  bring  his  wife  and  children 
here,  when  he  could  go  just  as  well  to  Colorado  or  Mon- 
tana, Oregon  or  California,  and  escape  the  dismal  draw- 
backs we  have  here  ? I admit  I have  great  hopes  of  the 
Railroad,  in  time ; and  yet  I confess,  I fear,  our  questio 
vexcita  here  in  Utah,  like  its  “twin”  question  down  in 
Dixie,  will  find  its  solution  only  in  gunpowder,  if  it  is 
to  find  it  soon.  When  nothing  else  will  do,  I have  great 
faith  in  the  moral  power  of  bayonets — especially,  when 
used  on  the  right  side.” 

“But,  judge,  is  not  Brigham  Young  the  main  cohe- 
sive power  ; and  when  he  dies,  what  then  ? ” 

“ Well,  when  that  happens  they  may  split  up,  on  the 
question  of  his  successor ; but  I suspect  Brigham  is  too 
shrewd  and  far-seeing  for  that.  He  already  has  Brigham 
Young,  Jr.,  his  smartest  son,  in  training  for  the  succes- 
sion— sent  him  missionary  to  England,  and  now  he  is  a 
Brigadier-General  in  the  Mormon  Militia  here — and  the 
probability  is,  a “ Revelation”  will  designate  him  for  the 
Presidency,  if  death  don’t  come  too  suddenly.  Brigham 
will  undoubtedly  keep  the  succession  in  his  own  family, 
if  he  can  ; but  he  will  not  hesitate  a moment  to  designate 
some  other  person,  if  the  seeming  interests  of  the  Church 
require  it.  Of  course,  he  is  very  illiterate  ; but  he  is  a 
very  able  and  sagacious  man,  for  all  that — devoted  to 
Mormonism,  and  “ dangerous  ” in  every  sense  of  that 
word.” 

“Have  you  no  fear  of  him,  yourself,  judge?  You 
speak  your  mind  pretty  plainly.” 


196 


THE  HIGH  COUNCIL  OF  THE  CHURCH 


“No,  I think  not.  He  would  hardly  strike  so  high. 
Besides  he  is  reputed  to  be  a coward,  personally,  and  I 
guess  that  is  so.  I have  seen  him  charged  with  compli- 
city in  the  Mountain  Meadow  massacre,  and  his  shirking 
and  cringing  then  was  pitiful.  No  doubt,  my  life  is 
always  in  danger  here,  more  or  less,  as  would  be  that  of 
any  other  upright  and  fearless  judge.  Indeed,  I have 
good  reason  to  know,  that  they  cordially  hate  me.  After 
Dr.  Robinson’s  assassination  a friendly  Mormon  came  to 
me  at  night,  and  told  me  confidentially  my  turn  would 
come  next.  But  I keep  indoors  after  dark,  or  else  go  out 
only  in  company,  or  when  heavily  armed,  and  am  pre- 
pared to  sacrifice  my  life,  if  need  be,  at  any  time.  1 have 
lived  too  long  in  this  world,  to  be  much  afraid  of  leaving 
it ; and  I don’t  know  as  I could  die  better  anyhow,  than 
in  upholding  and  enforcing  the  laws  of  my  country  here 
in  Utah.” 

“ Do  your  Courts  ever  meet  with  real  opposition  to 
their  ordinary  courses  of  procedure  ? ” 

“ Why,  no — not  formally ; though  I never  have  much 
confidence  in  a verdict,  where  one  of  the  parties  is  a 
Gentile.  Where  plaintiff  and  defendant  are  both  Mor- 
mons, our  verdicts  are  usually  righteous  enough  ; though 
these  are  liable  to  be  overruled  or  set  aside,  by  the  High 
Council  of  the  Church — a body  of  irresponsible  ecclesias- 
tics, of  course,  unknown  to  the  laws.  This  Council  is 
composed  of  Brigham  Young,  and  a number  of  the  chief 
dignitaries  of  the  Church,  and  is  often  appealed  to  by 
“ big”  Mormons,  when  the  civil  courts  have  gone  against 
them.” 

“ No  ! Really ! But  is  not  this  mere  rumor,  judge  ? ” 

“No,  indeed!  I could  cite  several  such  cases,  but 
will  only  trouble  you  with  one.  Not  long  ago,  down  in 
one  of  our  Southern  counties,  a laboring  man — a Mor- 


A CASE  OF  APPEAL- 


197 


mon — was  working  in  a barn,  for  and  with  a Mormon 
Bishop.  In  some  way  or  other,  they  got  into  a quarrel, 
which  ended  in  a fight,  and  in  the  course  of  this  the 
Bishop  hurt  the  poor  fellow  very  badly.  Among  other 
things,  he  struck  him  with  a pitchfork,  harpooning  him 
— so  to  speak — through  the  leg,  so  that  the  poor  man 
was  laid  up  for  months,  and  made  a cripple  indeed  for 
life.  After  his  recovery,  the  outrage  was  so  atrocious, 
and  the  community  so  generally  with  him,  he  mustered 
up  courage  enough  to  bring  an  action  against  the  Bishop. 
The  cause  was  tried  in  the  Probate  or  County  Court, 
where  of  course,  all  were  Mormons.  But  the  jurors, 
being  neighbors  of  the  injured  man  and  cognizant  of  all 
the  facts,  resolved  to  do  justice,  and  accordingly  without 
much  delay  returned  a verdict  for  $3,500  damages.  The 
Bishop  being  rich,  as  the  high  dignitaries  all  are,  appealed 
the  case  to  my  court,  where  I,  after  a full  hearing,  of 
course,  affirmed  the  judgment  of  the  court  below,  with 
heavy  costs. 

“Well,  now,  I supposed  this  settled  the  case,  as 
there  was  no  higher  court  here.  But  judge  of  my 
astonishment,  when  some  weeks  after  the  plaintiff  came 
to  me  one  day,  and  said  the  Bishop  had  further  appealed 
the  case  to  the  High  Council  of  the  Church,  where  they 
had  tried  it  over  again,  and  awarded  him  only  $1,000 
damages  ; and  he  wanted  to  know  if  this  was  right  and 
“ good  law  ” here  ? Of  course,  I could  do  nothing  for 
him  myself,  with  the  facts  in  that  shape.  But  I referred 
him  to  one  of  our  Gentile  lawyers  here,  and  told  him  if 
he  would  put  the  case  in  his  hands,  and  have  the  facts 
brought  regularly  before  me,  so  that  I could  get  hold  of 
the  matter  judicially,  I would  soon  teach  this  “High 
Council  of  the  Church”  a lesson,  as  to  their  rights  and 
duties,  as  against  a United  States  Court,  that  they  would 


198 


HIS  STATEMENTS  CORROBORATED. 


be  apt  to  remember  for  awhile.  He  thanked  me,  and 
took  my  advice.  But  before  the  papers  got  regularly 
before  me,  the  Mormons  somehow  got  wind  of  the  matter, 
and  hastened  to  settle  with  the  man.  I believe  they 
gave  him  $2,000,  or  something  like  that,  and  I suppose 
frightened  him  into  silence.  Now,  to  think  once  of 
these  insolent  villians,  presuming — without  law  and  in 
violation  of  law — to  review  and  overrule  the  solemn 
decision  of  a United  States  Court!  I tell  you,  it  made 
my  Quaker  blood  boil,  when  I heard  of  it.*  I would 
just  like  to  have  laid  my  hands  on  that  “ High  Council 
of  the  Church,”  in  a case  like  that.  I feel  right  sure,  I 
would  have  taught  Brigham  Young  and  his  lawless 
associates  a wholesome  lesson,  they  wouldn’t  have  for- 
gotten very  soon,  if  it  had  cost  me  my  life  to  do  it.” 
There  was  something  grand  and  heroic — almost 
sublime — about  this  man’s  talk  at  times,  and  I only 
reproduce  it  here  very  faintly.  He  knew  I was 
seeking  official  facts,  and  doubtless  unburdened  his 
whole  soul  to  me.  He  had  had  unusual  opportunities 
for  observation ; he  seemed  to  be  well-informed ; and 
certainly  was  thoroughly  honest.  Further  than  this,  I 
cannot  vouch  for  him,  but  report  the  conversation  sub- 
stantially as  it  occurred,  from  notes  made  the  same  even- 
ing. I must,  however,  do  him  the  justice  to  add,  that 
his  views  in  the  main  were  everywhere  corroborated  by 
almost  all  the  Federal  officers  I met — both  civil  and  mil- 
itary— as  well  as  the  vast  majority  of  Gentile  settlers, 
throughout  all  that  region.  Such  were  the  views  of 
Judge ; and  subsequent  events  there,  it  must  be  con- 

fessed, have  pretty  well  illustrated  them. 

* He  was  originally  from  Pennsylvania. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


MORMONISM  IN  GENERAL. 

IN  the  two  previous  chapters,  I have  discussed  Utah 
pretty  thoroughly,  touching  most  of  the  mooted  ques- 
tions there;  and  now,  to  sum  up.  Without  doubt,  it 
must  be  said  of  the  people  of  Utah,  that  they  are  an  indus- 
trious, frugal,  and  thrifty  race.  By  their  wonderful  sys- 
tem of  irrigation,  they  have  converted  the  desert  there 
into  a garden,  and  literally  made  the  wilderness,  “ bloom 
and  blossom  as  the  rose.”  Their  statistics  (1866)  showed, 
that  they  had  already  constructed  over  a thousand  miles 
of  irrigating  canals  and  ditches,  watering  150,000  acres 
of  land,  at  a cost  of  nearly  $2,000,000.  Each  family  has 
its  own  few  acres,  and  these  are  cultivated  so  thoroughly, 
that  the  total  annual  product  is  surprising.  In  Salt  Lake 
City  many  families  almost  live  on  their  acre-and  a 
quarter  lots,  and  many  of  their  farms  elsewhere  do  not 
exceed  forty  or  fifty  acres,  with  many  much  smaller. 
With  their  system  of  careful  culture  and  general  double- 
cropping,  one  man  cannot  well  manage  over  ten  or  twelve 
acres  per  year;  nor  is  more  necessary  for  an  ordinary 
family,  the  land  proves  so  bountiful.  Fifty  and  sixty 
bushels  of  wheat  per  acre,  we  were  told,  was  not  an  unu- 
sual yield.  So,  since  leaving  the  Missouri,  we  had  nowhere 
seen  more  comfortable  and  apparently  well-to-do  homes. 
We  must  say,  they  were  much  superior  to  the  average 
homes  of  our  people  in  Colorado.  Evidently,  these 


200  ITS  PRODUCTS,  SOBRIETY  AND  THRIFT — 

Utahans  had  come  there  to  stay,  and  from  the  first  had 
“ governed  themselves  accordingly  ; ” while  the  Colora- 
doans, it  was  plain,  were  too  many  of  them,  only  “ birds 
of  passage,”  like  so  much  of  our  population  in  the  "West 
generally.  Their  towns  and  villages  are  well  laid  out, 
and  in  the  main  neatly  built.  In  the  country,  their  little 
farms  are  well-fenced  or  walled,  with  comfortable  adobe 
houses  clustering  with  vines  and  flowers,  or  surrounded 
with  fruit  and  shade  trees,  while  a throng  of  hay  and 
grain-stacks  encircle  their  barns.  So,  too,  the  Mormons, 
whatever  else  may  be  said  of  them,  are  certainly  a sober 
race  of  people.  Many  of  them  no  doubt  keep  liquor 
about  their  premises,  and  drink  when  they  choose  to  ; 
but  drunkenness  as  a vice,  or  habitual  drinking  as  a 
practice,  is  unknown  in  Utah,  comparatively  speaking. 
So,  too,  they  allow  no  gambling  there,  except  “ on  the 
sly  and  no  houses  of  prostitution,  unless  you  regard 
every  “ much-married  ” Mormon’s  as  such,  which  it 
seems  hardly  fair  to  do — the  women  considered.  On  the 
whole,  it  is  safe  to  say,  that  the  Mormons  deserve  marked 
commendation  and  praise  for  what  they  have  accomplish- 
ed in  Utah,  in  redeeming  a barren  wilderness  and  build- 
ding  up  a prosperous  community  there,  and  full  credit 
should  be  awarded  them  accordingly.  They  brag  con- 
stantly, and  largely,  about  Great  Salt  Lake  City,  and 
surely  they  have  a right  to.  In  the  essential  points  of 
beauty,  comfort,  cleanliness,  and  good  order,  it  has  few 
equals,  and  perhaps  no  superiors  of  its  age  and  size  any- 
where, and  all  things  considered  is  indeed  a perfect  mir- 
acle for  Utah.  In  the  very  heart  of  the  great  internal 
basin  of  the  continent,  and  the  centre  of  a busy  and  thriv- 
ing people,  it  really  seemed  to  be  a natural  metropolis 
there,  and  was  everywhere  talked  of  as  the  future  work- 
shop and  mart  of  that  region. 


ITS  BISHOPS,  KEEN  BUSINESS  MEN 201 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  due  to  truth  to  say,  that 
impartial  as  I tried  to  be,  the  more  I studied  affairs 
there,  the  more  Mormonism  impressed  me  as,  in  many 
respects, a huge  mass  of  thorough  iniquity.  It  did  not 
strike  me  as  a Religion  at  all,  per  se , and  I suspect  there 
is  less  of  the  purely  “ religious”  about  it,  than  any  other 
ecclesiastical  organization  on  the  earth.  Their  sermons 
were  not  so  much  theological  discourses,  as  they  were 
sectarian  stump-speeches.  The  whole  Church,  “ so- 
called,”  struck  me  ordinarily,  as  a coarse  utilitarianism, 
not  to  say  rude  materialism.  Their  missionaries  seemed 
to  be  sent  out,  not  so  much  to  spread  the  gospel  (even 
according  to  J.  Smith  and  B.  Young),  as  to  induce  and 
hasten  immigration  to  Utah.  It  is  true,  they  have  Bish- 
ops and  other  subordinate  clergy ; but  their  main  duty 
appeared  to ‘be  to  preside  over  and  direct  colonization, 
rather  than  to  cure  souls.  They  had  indeed  their  regular 
dioceses ; but  these  were  so  arranged  as  to  make  the 
Bishop  the  chief  man  in  each  town  or  settlement,  and 
judging  by  those  we  saw  these  dignitaries  were  selected 
rather  for  their  shrewd  business  talents,  than  any  special 
piety  or  virtue.  They  were  almost  invariably  sharp  smart 
Americans,  while  the  great  majority  of  the  Mormons 
were  English,  Welsh,  Danes,  etc.,  of  the  very  lowest  and 
poorest  classes.  In  every  community,  the  Bishop’s  word 
was  law  and  gospel,  as  he  claimed  to  receive  “ revela- 
tions” direct  from  heaven  on  most  knotty  questions,  and 
he  virtually  inspired  and  directed  all  its  business.  Usu- 
ally he  owned  the  mill,  store,  and  hotel,  and  he  who  con- 
trols these  three  essentials  of  a new  community  ordinarily 
controls  the  community  itself.  Observation  shows,  that 
nearly  everybody  in  a new  country  becomes  mortgaged, 
sooner  or  later,  to  the  miller,  store-keeper,  or  hotel-keeper ; 
and  hence  as  the  Bishops  are  all  three  of  these  in  one, 


202  THE  CHURCH  AN  IMMIGRATION  AGENCY — 

their  chauces  for  amassing  wealth  are  simply  enormous. 
The  result  is,  that  all  or  nearly  all  of  the  Mormon  Bishops 
have  become  immensely  rich,  while  Brigham  himself  is 
reported  worth  a fabulous  amount  in  his  own  right,  inde- 
pendently of  the  vast  property  he  holds,  as  “ Trustee  in 
trust  for  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter  Day  Saints.’’* 
Indeed,  to  sum  it  up  in  one  word,  the  whole  institution 
of  Mormonism — polygamy  and  all — apart  from  its  theo- 
logical aspects,  impresses  you  rather  as  a gigantic  organi- 
zation for  collecting  and  consolidating  a population,  and 
thus  settling  up  a Territory  rapidly,  whatever  else  it  may 
be ; and  its  success,  in  this  respect,  has  certainly  been 
notable  and  great. 

As  a whole,  the  Mormons  are  no  doubt  a very  igno- 
rant, and,  therefore,  very  bigoted  people,  and  the  whole 
tendency  of  their  pulpit-teachings  is  to  lawlessness  and 
violence,  so  far  as  Gentiles  are  concerned.  They  affect  to 
despise  mere  intellect  and  sentiment,  and  to  pride  them- 
selves on  being  plain-spoken  and  practical.  They  will 
not  “fellowship’’  with  open  and  avowed  Gentiles,  if  they 
can  avoid  it;  and  boldly  proclaim  their  hostility  to  and 
contempt  for  the  Government  of  the  United  States,  as  on 
the  Sunday  we  were  at  their  Tabernacle.  No  doubt,  if 
opportunity  offered,  they  would  assail  or  embarrass  it, 
though  now  they  are  more  wary  and  circumspect,  than 
they  w^ere  before  the  South  learned  a lesson  on  this  score. 
So,  Brigham  Young  is  governor  de  facto  in  Utah,  and 
has  been  always,  no  matter  who  is  governor  de  ure , and 
will  be,  while  that  other  “ twin  relic  of  barbarism,”  polyg- 
amy, endures.  The  evidence  on  all  these  points,  I must 
say,  seemed  fairly  overwhelming,  though  no  more  can 
be  given  here.  So,  too,  they  believe,  or  affect  to  believe, 

* His  account  in  the  Bank  of  England  was  said  to  be  fourth  on  the 
list,  in  point  of  magnitude,  and  his  wealth  estimated  any  where  from 
$25,000,000  to  $50,000,000. 


ITS  BAD  RESULTS  GENERALLY 


203 


that  the  United  States  dares  not  touch  their  “ peculiar 
institution,”  and  brand  all  our  laws  against  it  as  acts  of 
“ National  wickedness,”  “ Federal  tyranny,”  invasions 
of  their  “ sacred  rights,”  etc.  It  seemed  to  me,  that  we 
had  heard  such  complaints  before;  but  not  from  a part  of 
the  country,  that  led  us  to  respect  them  greatly,  when 
reiterated  there  in  Utah.  The  true  test  is,  what  are  the 
results  to  Humanity,  and  how  do  they  affect  us  as  a 
People?  And  I am  sure,  the  answer  in  all  candor  must 
be,  a bigoted  and  seditious  race  of  men , a degraded  and 
inferior  class  of  women , an  ignorant  and  degenerate  herd 
of  children  / and  does  not  the  inevitable,  and  inexorable, 
logic  of  things  necessitate  just  these  ? If  these  be  the 
elements  of  progress  and  the  seeds  of  empire,  then  Utah 
should  be  let  alone ; if  otherwise,  then  let  us  lay  the 
strong  hand  of  the  Government  upon  her,  and  teach  her 
respect  for  and  obedience  to  the  laws,  the  same  as  all 
other  parts  of  the  Union. 

Ho  doubt  their  poor  women  are  already  relapsing  into  a 
condition,  that  is  truly  pitiable,  as  elsewhere  intimated,  and 
their  tendency  must  be  rapidly  to  the  worse.  Evidently 
the  Saints  take  care  to  seclude  them  from  Gentile  gaze, 
as  much  as  possible;  but  a more  dreary,  homely,  pokey 
set  of  women,  as  a whole,  were  never  seen.  I may  have 
been  unfortunate,  but  in  all  Utah,  I did  not  see  a truly 
happy  and  sunny  countenance,  or  noble  and  serene,  on  a 
mature  Mormon  woman  ; nor  did  I anywhere  hear  of 
one,  who  would  fully  realize  our  old  and  fond  ideal  of 

“ A perfect  woman  nobly  planned, 

To  warn,  to  comfort,  and  command  ; 

And  yet  a spirit — still  and  bright. — 

With  something  of  an  angel’s  light ! ” 

But,  what  else  could  be  expected  in  a country,  where 
a husband  signifies  only  the  fractional  part  of  a man, 


204 


POLYGAMY  A BARBARISM 


and  a wife — any  number  of  women  you  please  ? Beyond 
controversy,  their  “ peculiar  institution  n of  polygamy 
is  a “ relic  of  barbarism  55 — yea,  verily,  a “ twin-relic  ” 
to  slavery — as  the  Republican  party  in  1856-60  had  the 
manliness  and  courage  to  pronounce  it.  “ Peculiar  ” insti- 
tutions, of  whatever  character,  have  no  business  in  a 
republic ; they  mean  inequality,  and  inevitably  tend  to 
violence  and  disorder.  No  doubt,  had  Abraham  Lincoln 
lived,  when  we  had  finished  our  first  “ twin  ” right 
thoroughly,  he  would  have  found  a way  to  look  well 
after  the  other.  We  owe  this  to  our  mothers  and  sisters, 
to  our  wives  and  daughters, 

“ The  graces  and  the  loves,  that  make 
The  music  of  the  march  of  life — 

to  all  of  womankind,  the  broad  continent  across  and 
the  wide  world  over  ; and  Congress  should  take  care,  that 
we  lend  not  the  sanction  of  our  flag  to  this  hideous  crime, 
an  hour  longer  than  we  must.  Our  age,  so  far,  has  largely 
honored  itself,  in  honoring  and  respecting  womankind,  and 
it  is  too  late  now  to  let  Christian  America  barbarize  any 
portion  of  herself,  with  the  exploded  savagery  of  pagan- 
dom. We  must  have  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the 
press  there,  security  of  person  and  property — absolute 
and  perfect — the  same  as  in  New  York  or  Massachu- 
setts, or  our  flag  is  a lie.  We  must  maintain  and  execute 
our  national  laws  against  polygamy,  the  same  as  every- 
where else,  no  matter  who  opposes,  or  our  government 
is  a sham.  And  if  Mormon  juries  wont  do  this,  refusing 
to  indict  or  convict,  and  nothing  else  will  do,  so  that  we 
have  to  fall  back  on  the  bayonet,  why  then  I see  nothing 
in  Utah  so  sacred,  that  wre  should  not  give  Brighamdom 
the  bayonet,  the  same  as  we  did  Jeffdom.  I believe  in 
the  Pacific  Railroad,  and  hope  much  from  its  civilizing  and 


LET  US  ENFORCE  THE  LAWS. 


205 


refining  influences;  I have  great  faith  in  the  locomotive 

and  the  telegraph  ; but  I also  believe,  with  Judge in 

“ the  moral  power  of  bayonets,  when  nothing  else  will 
suffice — especially  when  used  on  the  right  side.”  We 
have  just  had  to  use  them  against  one  “ twin-relic,”  when 
nothing  else  would  do,  in  spite  of  our  Railroads  there ; 
now  let  them  charge  down  upon  the  other,  if  Utah  will 
not  obey  the  laws,  and  that  right  speedily.  Were 
Mormonism  merely  a religion,  as  a republic  we  should 
be  the  last  to  touch  it.  But  polygamy,  its  baleful  flower 
and  fruit,  and  the  source  of  all  Utah’s  woes,  is  an  unmit- 
igated barbarism  ; an  outrage  and  crime,  not  only  against 
woman,  but  humanity  ; an  organized  insult  to  the  Chris- 
tianity and  civilization  of  the  age  ; and  we  Americans,  of 
this  generation,  owe  it  to  ourselves  and  to  history,  to  end 
it — to  stamp  it  out  if  need  be — sans  ceremony  and 
instanter.  Let  us  not  dally  with  it,  as  we  did  with  South- 
ern slavery.  Else  may  God,  in  his  just  wrath,  break  us 
again  with  a rod  of  iron,  or  haply  dash  us  in  pieces  as  a 
potter’s  vessel.  Let  Congress  and  the  President  but  do  their 
duty  in  the  premises,  and  Brigham  Young  I predict  will 
receive  a “ new  revelation,”  that  will  quickly  end  the 
whole  trouble.  The  power  is  with  them,  and  History 
will  hold  them  justly  responsible. 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 


SALT  LAKE  TO  BOISI^  CITY,  IDAHO. 

IT  was  onr  intention  originally  to  proceed  from  Salt 
Lake  to  San  Francisco  direct,  via  Nevada ; but  our  long 
sojourn  at  Salt  Lake  induced  us  to  go  via  Boise  City  and 
the  Columbia  instead.  When  arranging  for  our  depar- 
ture, we  happened  to  meet  Mr.  Ben  Holliday,  the  great 
stage-proprietor  of  the  Plains  there,  and  he  advised  us 
to  inspect  Idaho  first,  or  we  would  be  caught  there  in 
winter.  He  was  then  temporarily  at  Salt  Lake,  on  one 
of  his  semi-annual  inspections  of  his  vast  stage-lines. 
The  Pacific  Eailroad  has  supplanted  these  now,  in  the 
main  ; but  they  were  then  the  only  means  of  rapid 
transit,  and  a great  and  important  agency  of  civilization 
throughout  all  that  region.  His  line  of  stages  com- 
menced then  at  Fort  Kearney  on  the  Platte,  and  ran 
thence  to  Denver,  about  five  hundred  miles;  thence  to 
Central  City,  in  the  heart  of  the  Colorado  mines,  about 
forty  miles;  returning  to  Denver,  thence  along  and 
across  the  Bockv  and  Wahsatch  Mountains  to  Salt  Lake, 
about  six  hundred  miles;  thence  through  Idaho  and 
Oregon,  to  Umatilla  on  the  Columbia,  about  seven 
hundred  miles,  with  a branch  at  Bear  Eiver,  through 
Montana  to  Virginia  City,  about  four  hundred  miles 
more.  In  all,  his  stage-lines  then  footed  up  about  two 
thousand  two  hundred  and  forty  miles,  through  the 
great  frontier  heart  of  the  continent.  From  Kearney  to 


OVERLAND  STAGE  COMPANY  AGAIN — 


207 


Salt  Lake,  he  ran  a daily  stage  each  way;  over  the 
balance  of  his  routes,  only  a tri-weekly.  From  Salt  Lake 
to  California,  about  seven  hundred  and  fifty  miles  more, 
there  was  also  a daily  stage  each  way,  but  this  line  was 
owned  and  run  by  Wells,  Fargo  & Co.,  then  and  still  the 
great  Express  Company  of  the  Pacific  Coast.  Mr.  Holli- 
day, in  anticipation  of  the  Railroad,  with  his  wonted 
sagacity,  was  just  completing  the  sale  and  transfer  of  all 
his  stage-lines  to  Wells,  Fargo  & Co.,  whose  stage- 
business  alone  thus  became  one  gigantic  enterprise, 
reaching  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Pacific,  and  from  Salt 
Lake  to  the  Columbia.  What  a prodigious  undertaking ! 
How  colossal  in  its  proportions  ! It  was  estimated  that 
these  lines  would  then  foot  up  over  three  thousand  miles, 
and  to  operate  them  would  require  about  five  hundred 
coaches,  and  fully  ten  thousand  horses  and  mules,  first 
and  last.  Mr.  Holliday  said  his  lines  had  been  very 
profitable  some  years,  but  in  others  again  he  had  lost 
heavily.  Sometimes  the  Indians  stole  or  destroyed  a 
quarter  of  a million’s  worth  of  his  property  per  annum, 
and  then  again  his  expenses  were  always  necessarily 
enormous.  Stations  had  to  be  erected  and  maintained, 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  apart,  along  all  the  routes.  Grain 
had  to  be  hauled,  in  the  main,  from  either  the  Missouri 
or  Salt  Lake,  although  Colorado  and  Idaho  had  begun 
to  yield  something.  Hay  had  to  be  transported  often 
fifty  miles,  and  fuel  sometimes  a hundred  and  fifty.  He 
paid  his  General  Superintendent  ten  thousand  dollars  per 
year,  and  his  Washington  Agent  about  the  same;  his 
Division  Superintendents  about  half  that  sum ; his 
drivers  and  station-keepers  from  seventy-five  to  a hundred 
dollars  per  month  and  their  board ; and  then  there  were 
ten  thousand  and  one  incidental  expenses  besides.  One 
would  have  supposed,  that  the  oversight  and  management 


208 


BEN.  HOLLIDAY  HIMSELF 


of  his  vast  stage-enterprises  would  have  been  enough  for 
one  man  to  carry.  But,  in  addition,  he  owned  and  ran 
a line  of  steam-ships  on  the  Pacific  from  San  Francisco 
to  Oregon  and  Alaska,  another  to  Lower  California  and 
Mexico,  and  was  planning  to  get  more  business  still. 
He  was  a man  apparently  of  about  forty-five,  tall  and  thin, 
of  large  grasp  and  quick  perceptions,  of  indifferent  health 
but  indomitable  will,  fiery  and  irascible  when  crossed,  and 
a Westerner  all  through.  Apparently  he  carried  his  vast 
business  very  jauntily,  without  much  thought  or  care  ; but 
he  crossed  the  continent  twice  each  year,  from  end  to  end 
of  his  stage-routes,  and  saw  for  himself  how  matters 
were  getting  on.  When  he  went  through  thus,  extra 
teams  and  coaches  were  always  held  in  readiness,  and  he 
had  made  the  quickest  Overland  trip  recorded.  Time 
was  everything  with  him  then ; horse-flesh  and  expense 
— nothing.  Once  he  drove  from  Salt  Lake  to  the 

Missouri,  over  twelve  hundred  miles,  in  six  days  and  a 
half,  and  made  the  total  trip  from  San  Francisco  in 
twelve  days.  The  locomotive  beats  this  now,  but  nothing 
else  could.  The  usual  schedule-time  was  about  twenty 
days ; but  it  often  took  two  or  three  more. 

Mr.  liolladay,  however,  was  beginning  to  show  signs 
of  his  hard  work,  and  on  this  trip  had  found  it  necessary 
to  bring  his  physician  along  with  him.  Subsequently,  we 
met  him  in  San  Francisco,  still  an  invalid,  but  as  hard  at 
work  as  ever,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  his  teem-, 
ing  schemes.  Of  course,  we  found  these  great  stage- 
lines not  always  popular,  because  they  were  rapacious 
monopolies , ex  necessitate.  Nevertheless,  on  the  whole, 
they  accomplished  a great  work  in  their  day  ; and,  all 
things  considered,  did  it  cheaply  and  well.  They  have 
a history  of  their  own,  full  of  incident  and  adventure, 
that  will  read  like  romance  a few  years  hence ; and  the 


GREAT  SALT  LAKE  — 


209 


man  who  will  gather  up  all  the  facts,  and  give  us  a full 
account  of  them,  will  do  the  future  a real  service. 
Now,  if  ever,  is  the  time  to  do  this ; for  the  Railroad 
has  alread}T  done  away  wTith  the  main  lines,  and  soon 
over  all  our  American  stage-coaching  will  be  written 
“ Ichabod” — its  glory  has  departed. 

Mr.  Halsey,  Mr.  Holladay’s  general  superintendent  at 
Salt  Lake,  was  about  going  to  Boise  City  to  look  after 
stage-affairs  generally,  and  politely  invited  us  to  share 
his  special  coach.  I was  still  feeble,  and  it  was  some 
days  before  I could  leave ; but  finally  Nov.  7th,  we 
bade  good-bye  to  Camp  Douglas  and  Salt  Lake,  and 
were  off  for  the  Columbia.  Once  out  of  the  city,  our 
route  struck  due  north,  and  skirted  the  shores  of  Great 
Salt  Lake  for  a day  or  so.  This  great  inland  sea,  fifty 
miles  long  by  twenty  wide,  was  on  our  left,  while  to  the 
right  rose  abrupt  mountains  barren  to  the  summit.  The 
Lake  itself  was  surrounded  by  marshes,  abounding  in 
water-fowl,  and  just  then  afforded  excellent  duck-shooting 
to  frequent  parties  from  the  city.  It  was  dotted  with 
islands,  several  of  them  large  and  mountainous,  which 
furnished  rich  pasturage  for  large  herds  of  horses  and 
cattle,  belonging  chiefly  to  Brigham  Young.  These 
beautiful  islands  had  been  “granted”  to  him  by  the 
Utah  Legislature,  as  well  as  the  exclusive  right  to 
numerous  streams  and  canons  in  other  parts  of  the  Ter- 
ritory, that  were  esteemed  especially  valuable.  Among 
others,  they  had  granted  to  him  City  Creek  canon,  which 
contained  about  the  only  valuable  timber  within  many 
miles  of  Salt  Lake  City,  and  now  every  man,  who  chop- 
ped a load  of  wood  there,  had  to  pay  tribute  to  Brother 
Brigham  to  the  tune  of  one  dollar  per  cord.  Along  the 
base  of  the  mountains,  we  frequently  came  across  hot 
Sulphur  Springs,  steaming  in  the  sharp  November  air, 


210 


OGDEN  CITY — 


and  Mr.  Halsey  pointed  out  several  said  to  be  hot  enough 
to  boil  an  egg.  The  sulphur  and  heat  from  them  de- 
stroyed all  vegetation  around  them,  and  also  for  a consid- 
erable distance  along  the  issuing  streams,  that  flowed 
thence  into  Great  Salt  Lake.  • Every  few  miles  we 
crossed  dashing  rivulets,  that  came  roaring  and  foaming 
out  of  the  canons,  all  making  their  way  ultimately  to  the 
Lake — the  common  reservoir  of  all  that  basin.  Great 
Salt  Lake  drains  many  hundreds  of  square  miles  there, 
receiving  streams  from  all  directions,  but  giving  out 
none.  Its  only  relief  is  evaporation,  which  of  course 
must  be  enormous  during  the  long  and  dry  summer 
there.  Hence  its  saltiness  and  great  specific  gravity,  a 
man  floating  in  it — it  is  said — very  readily.  Its  volume 
that  year  was  greater  than  usual,  owing  it  was  thought  to 
a heavy  rain-fall ; but  this  year  (1873),  I see  it  reported  as 
several  feet  higher,  than  ever  before.  This  would  seem 
to  confirm  the  favorite  theory  of  many  pioneers,  that  as 
the  country  became  settled  up  and  cultivated,  the  average 
rain-fall  constantly  increased.  Between  the  mountains 
and  the  Lake,  along  its  whole  extent,  there  was  usually 
a fine  broad  plateau  of  land,  and  this  was  dotted  thickly 
with  farms  to  Ogden  and  beyond. 

Ogden,  now  the  stopping  point  on  the  Pacific  Bail- 
road  for  Salt  Lake  City,  and  about  forty  miles  north  of 
it,  was  then  a smart  little  town  of  perhaps  1200  inhabit- 
ants, and  rapidly  growing  larger.  It  was  Salt  Lake 
City  over  again,  on  a reduced  scale,  but  evidently  pat- 
terning after  it,  both  in  plan  and  detail.  Its  streets  were 
broad  and  rectangular ; its  irrigating  streams,  clear  and 
cold  from  the  neighboring  canons ; its  houses,  adobe  or 
frame ; and  its  yards  and  gardens,  a mass  of  beauty  and 
luxuriance.  A general  air  of  industry  and  thriftiness 
pervaded  the  little  community.  Everybody  appeared  to 


BISHOP  WEST 


211 


be  constantly  at  work,  though  not  very  hard  work.  And, 
indeed,  so  far  as  material  comfort  was  concerned,  there 
seemed  little  ground  for  criticism.  The  supervisor  and 
main-spring  of  the  whole  was  Bishop  West — a burly 
active  man  of  forty,  with  three  buxom  wives,  and  a 
house-full  of  well-graduated  children.  He  was  a live, 
go-ahead  business  man,  with  little  or  nothing  of  the 
sacerdotal  about  him — owned  the  mill,  store,  and  hotel 
there,  and  managed  them  all  with  rare  shrewdness  and 
energy.  His  hotel  was  a comfortable  two-story  adobe 
house,  with  shingle  roof,  and  was  remarkably  well  kept 
for  a country  tavern,  all  things  considered.  He  was  a 
heavy  contractor  with  the  stage-line,  to  deliver  grain 
along  at  the  stations  between  Salt  Lake  and  Boise  City, 
and  Mr.  Halsey  concluded  to  stop  over  one  night  to  see 
and  confer  with  him.  He  received  us  with  generous 
hospitality,  and  was  soon  conversing  freely  upon  all  mat- 
ters relating  to  Utah,  aside  from  Mormonism.  He  little 
suspected  then  the  good  luck  in  store  for  him,  by  the  oncom- 
ing of  the  Pacific  Bailroad,  which  has  doubtless  made 
him  a millionaire,  if  he  was  not  approaching  that  before. 
Salt  Lake  was  then  depending  on  the  Bailroad  coming 
there,  and  doubtless  was  grievously  disappointed,  when 
it  left  her  “ out  in  the  cold  ” — forty  miles  to  the  South.* 
The  Bishop’s  partner  in  many  of  his  operations  was 
Mr.  Joseph  Young,  the  eldest  son,  I believe,  of  Brigham. 
He  happened  at  Ogden  that  night,  and  we  saw  consider- 
able of  him.  Mr.  Halsey  said  he  was  “ some  married  ” 
already,  having  four  wives,  and  as  he  was  still  a compar- 
atively young  man — about  thirty-five — might  have  a 
good  many  more  yet.  He  was  a tall,  well-knit,  resolute 

* But  she  has  already  filled  this  gap  with  a branch  Road,  which 
ultimately  she  will  push  north  to  the  Columbia,  and  south  to  the 
Gulf  of  California. 


212 


MR.  JOSEPH  YOUNG 


looking  young  fellow  ; but  did  not  seem  to  be  overly  well 
stocked  with  brains  or  judgment.  Nevertheless,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  investments  with  Bishop  West,  he  owned  saw- 
mills in  the  mountains  beyond  Salt  Lake,  and  was  a heavy 
contractor  with  the  stage-company  besides  for  supplies 
elsewhere.  He  spoke  carelessly,  not  to  say  disrespect- 
fully, about  Mormon  affairs  in  general,  and  left  the 
impression,  that  he  might  abjure  the  faith  some  day  yet, 
when  the  fit  occasion  came.  Brigham,  it  appears,  had  dis- 
carded him  for  the  succession  some  time  before,  in  favor 
of  his  younger  brother,  Brigham,  Jr.,  who  was  said  to 
be  a much  abler  and  discreeter  man  ; and  this,  it  was 
thought,  had  something  to  do  with  “ Joe’s”  free  and 
easy  thinking. 

From  Ogden  to  Brigham  City,  about  half  way  to 
Bear  Biver,  the  country  continued  much  the  same,  except 
that  the  mountains  trended  away  more  to  the  east,  and 
the  plateau  thence  to  the  Lake  consequently  became 
broader.  Settlements  continued  most  of  the  way,  but 
the  farms  grew  more  scattered,  and  ran  more  to  grazing. 
Wherever  a stream  issued  from  the  canons,  it  had  been 
caught  up  and  carried  far  up  and  down  the  plateau,  to 
irrigate  a wide  breadth  of  land,  and  its  application 
appeared  always  to  have  met  with  a generous  return. 
Brigham  City  was  a clever  little  town,  of  a thousand 
inhabitants  or  so,  and  in  its  general  plan  and  make  up 
was  as  much  like  Ogden  as  two  peas.  It  lies  on  a higher 
bench  or  plateau,  however,  and  affords  a much  finer 
prospect  of  the  bottom  country  below.  We  halted  there 
for  dinner,  and  while  waiting  in  the  office  a Ute  Indian 
came  in,  with  a noble  wild  goose  for  sale,  that  he  had 
just  shot  in  the  marshes.  lie  was  a splendidly  built 
young  fellow,  with  nothing  in  the  way  of  clothing,  how- 
ever, except  a ragged  blanket  and  the  inevitable  breech- 


BRIGHAM  CITY 


213 


cloth.  His  feet  and  limbs  were  entirely  naked,  and 
would  have  served  well  as  models  for  a Belvidere 
Apollo.  It  was  a cold  raw  day,  with  alternating  rain 
and  sleet,  and  no  wonder  the  poor  wretch  mumbled, 
“ Me  cold ; much  cold  ! ” as  he  huddled  up  to  the  tire. 
He  sold  his  goose  for  two  “ bits,”  and  the  last  we  saw  of 
him  he  was  purchasing  “ smoke-tobacco”  at  the  nearest 
store.  We  saw  many  lodges  of  Utes,  while  en  route  from 
Ogden  to  Bear  River,  and  they  all  seemed  to  be  pitiably 
off.  As  we  left  Brigham  City,  we  observed  a dozen 
squaws  or  more  loitering  around  a slaughter-house  on  its 
outskirts,  waiting  ro  secure  the  entrails  or  other  refuse, 
that  the  butchers  might  throw  away.  Just  beyond,  sev- 
eral more  crossed  the  road,  loaded  down  with  great  bun- 
dles of  sage-brush,  that  they  had  been  out  gathering  for 
fuel,  while  their  “ braves”  loafed  at  home.  “Mr.  Lo”  (the 
poor  Indian  ! ),  as  our  borderers  satirically  call  him,  in 
brief,  has  certainly  sadly  deteriorated  in  Utah,  whatever 
he  may  be  elsewhere.  These  Utes  seemed  to  be  a taller 
and  better  class  of  savages  naturally,  than  their  cousins 
on  the  Rio  Grande ; but  from  contact  with  the  Mormons 
they  were  fast  disappearing,  and  would  soon  become 
extinct.  Brigham  Young  was  credited  with  saying,  with 
his  wonted  shrewdness,  “ I can  kill  more  injuns  with  a 
sack  of  flour,  than  a keg  of  gunpowder  ;”  and  no  doubt 
he  was  correct.  When  left  to  themselves,  as  children  of 
nature,  they  manage  to  get  along  somehow,  on  the  old 
principle  of  “ root  pig,  or  die  ! ” But  when  they  mix 
with  the  whites,  they  acquire  our  habits  and  tastes  in 
part,  without  learning  how  safely  to  gratify  or  benefit  by 
them ; and  consequently,  when  left  to  themselves  again, 
sicken  and  die. 

From  Brigham  City  to  Bear  River,  the  country  was 
wilder  and  more  unsettled  ; but  ranches — the  true  fore- 


214 


BEAR  RIVER 


runners  of  settlements — were  starting  up  in  various 
places.  The  mountain  streams  were  smaller  and  fewer, 
but  still  there  were  enough  to  irrigate  thousands  of  broad 
acres  there  yet,  and  to  spare.  Indeed,  the  whole  country 
from  Salt  Lake  to  Bear  River,  as  a rule,  needs  only  pop- 
ulation, to  become  prosperous  and  flourishing.  The 
mountain  streams  did  not  seem  to  be  a quarter  utilized  ; 
and,  apart  from  these,  vast  tracks  of  land  were  unused, 
where  grazing  would  certainly  prove  profitable. 

We  crossed  Bear  Rirer,  here  a broad  deep  stream,  on 
a rude  bridge,  and  were  now  fairly  off*  for  Boise  City. 
Here,  eighty-three  miles  from  Salt  Lake,  the  road  forked 
— one  branch  going  to  Virginia  City,  Montana,  and  the 
other  continuing  on  to  Boise.  The  Montana  travel  was 
then  much  the  larger,  and  the  stages  thus  far  went  full. 
But  the  Idaho  travel  wras  light — most  of  her  miners 
preferring  the  Columbia  as  a base.  From  Bear  River 
quite  through  to  Boise,  the  country  as  a whole  proved 
wild  and  sterile,  with  but  little  to  recommend  it,  until  we 
struck  the  valley  of  the  Boise.  There  were  some  good 
grazing  lands  here  and  there,  judging  by  the  “ bunch  ” 
grass ; but  Idaho,  as  a rule,  seemed  to  be  a high  volcanic 
plateau,  barren  and  desert-like.  Much  of  it  reminded  11s 
of  Bitter  Creek,  though  here  there  was  less  alkali 
and  old  red  sand-stone.  There  were  no  settlements  any- 
where, except  the  isolated  stage-stations,  and  but  little 
travel  beyond  the  tri-wTeekly  stages.  The  lonely  sta- 
tions occurred  as  usual,  every  ten  or  fifteen  miles  , but 
they  were  most  dreary  and  dismal  habitations,  as  a rule. 
They  were  built  generally  of  stone,  laid  up  loosely  with 
clay,  and  often  their  only  fuel  was  sage-brush  and  grease- 
wood — about  the  last  apology  for  fuel  on  the  earth. 
The  whole  region  seemed  destitute  of  timber,  until  you 
reached  the  Boise,  and  even  here  there  was  not  much  to 


A BARREN  REGION 


215 


brag  of.  Good  wholesome  water  seemed  to  be  equally 
rare,  and  even  at  the  stage-stations  where  they  had  dug 
for  it,  the  water  was  often  very  unpalatable.  We  passed 
three  stations,  one  after  the  other,  one  day,  where  Mr. 
Halsey  knew  the  water  to  be  bad,  without  essaying  to 
drink,  and  finally  became  so  thirsty  that  when  we 
reached  the  next  station,  all  hands  sung  out  to  the 
station-keepers : 

“ I say,  men,  what  kind  of  water  have  you  here  ? ” 

“Wall,  strangers,”  was  the  reply,  “Honor  bright,  it 
is  not  much  to  brag  of ! It  is  a heap  alkali,  and  right 
smart  warm  ; but  we  manage  to  drink  it,  wThen  it  cook 
a little.  It’s  altogether,  you  see,  in  gitten  used  to  it ; you 
bet!” 

But  as  we  hadn’t  got  “ used  to  it  ” yet,  and  hadn’t 
time  to  wait,  we  concluded^to  pass  on  to  the  next  station. 
At  most  of  the  stations,  the  only  persons  were  two  stock- 
tenders  or  stable-hands,  and  sometimes  only  one.  At 
Malade,  however,  as  we  halted  there  one  cold  and  blustering 
night,  we  were  agreeably  surprised  to  find  a blazing  fire 
and  an  excellent  meal,  that  gained  all  the  more  by  contrast 
with  the  forlorn  and  cheerless  stations,  that  greeted  us 
elsewhere.  A neat  and  tidy  woman,  wTith  an  instinct 
of  true  refinement  about  her,  was  the  simple  explana- 
tion. But  how  she  came  to  drop  down  into  that  desolate 
station,  with  a husband  and  two  or  three  children, 
will  always  remain  one  of  the  inexplicable  mysteries  of 
the  Universe  to  me. 

We  were  now  on  the  old  and  well-travelled  Emigrant 
Trail  from  the  Missouri  to  Oregon.  Bui  emigration  that 
way  had  mostly  ceased,  and  the  general  unattractiveness 
of  the  country  was  shown,  by  its  leaving  no  settlements 
behind.  Much  of  the  route  had  always  been  a natural 
road  across  the  plateaus  ; but  in  crossing  the  “ divides” 


216 


CAYOTES  OR  WOLVES 


and  descending  into  the  abrupt  valleys,  considerable  dig- 
ging and  blasting  had  been  done  here  and  there.  We 
neither  saw  nor  heard  of  any  Indians,  and  I judge  the 
country  as  a whole  was  always  too  barren  and  desolate 
to  support  any  thing  but  wolves.  Night  after  night  we 
heard  these  howling  around  us,  and  sometimes  by  day 
a single  cayote  would  skulk  across  the  road  ; but  they 
took  good  care  to  give  our  Remingtons  and  Spencers 
a wide  berth.  How  the  cayotes  or  wolves  of  these 
plateaus,  and  of  the  Plains,  manage  to  live,  it  is  hard  to 
say.  There  seems  little  for  them  to  subsist  on  ordinarily. 
And  yet  camp  where  you  will  at  night,  an  hour  after- 
wards the  whole  surrounding  landscape  becomes  vocal 
with  them.  First, it  is  a solitary  yelp,  and  then  a con- 
stantly widening  chorus,  until  thousands  of  the  cowards 
seem  to  be  on  the  bark.  One  night  wre  got  out  to  walk, 
over  a piece  of  extra  bad  road, 'and  as  we  rounded  a rocky 
point  toward  the  coming  station,  suddenly  a score  or 
more  of  them  opened  on  us  at  once.  It  was  pitchy 
dark,  and  the  suddenness  of  their  onset  certainly  startled 
us  ; but  we  sent  them  our  compliments  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound,  from  a Spencer  carbine  and  two  revolvers, 
and  that  was  the  last  we  heard  of  them.  The  Indians 
sometimes  counterfeit  their  howling,  in  order  to  take 
travellers  unawares ; but  otherwise,  however  startling, 
there  seemed  to  be  little  real  danger  about  it,  as  they 
seldom  or  never  attack  a man. 

We  crossed  Snake  River  on  a rude  ferry-boat,  stage 
and  all,  and  found  it  to  be  there  some  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  wTide,  by  perhaps  forty  feet  deep.  Its  banks 
were  abrupt — its  water  of  the  same  pea-green,  as  that  at 
Niagara.  It  was  skirted  bv  narrow  bottoms  on  either 

O •' 

side,  and  then  came  precipitous  basaltic  walls,  hundreds 
of  feet  high,  to  the  plateau  above.  This  plateau  again 


SNAKE  RIVER  AND  ITS  BOTTOMS  — 


217 


was  of  the  same  sterile  character,  as  the  country  alread}7 
passed  over — devoid  of  animal  and  vegetable  life,  except 
wolves,  sage-brush  and  grease-wTood,  and  even  these  didn’t 
seem  much  inclined  to  flourish  there.  The  Snake  itself 
seemed  to  be  an  abrupt  cut,  through  the  heart  of  a vast 
volcanic  plateau,  as  if  following  in  the  track  of  some 
ancient  earthquake. 

Snake  River  Station  was  on  the  north  side,  just  at 
the  foot  of  the  high  basaltic  bluff,  which  here  rears  its 
majestic  front  six  hundred  feet  or  more  perpendicularly 
into  the  air.  Half  way  up,  a small  river  bursts  forth, 
and  descends  in  a beautiful  cascade  two  or  three  hundred 
feet,  whence  it  rushes  like  an  arrow  down  the  broken, 
rocky  hillside,  and  so^  off  to  the  Snake  itself.  This  fleecy 
waterfall,  against  the  black  basaltic  bluff,  is  the  first 
object  that  strikes  you,  as  you  descend  into  the  valley 
of  the  Snake,  and  is  a charming  feature  of  the  landscape 
just  there.  Our  route  lay  along  the  Snake  for  many 
miles,  and  at  several  other  points  we  observed  similar 
cascades,  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  though  none  so  large 
or  lofty  as  this.  The  conclusion  seems  inevitable,  that 
subterranean  streams,  having  their  sources  in  the  far 
away  Mountains,  pervade  all  this  barren  region  ; and 
could  these  be  tapped  and  brought  to  the  surface,  all 
these  plateaus  might  be  made  cultivable  and  fertile.  No 
doubt  a way  of  doing  this,  by  artesian-wel Is  or  otherwise, 
will  be  found  in  the  future,  when  the  continent  fills  up 
more,  and  Idaho  becomes  necessary.  But  these  cascades 
could  be  utilized  immediately,  to  irrigate  much  of  the 
bottoms  of  the  Snake  at  trifling  expense,  if  anybody  chose 
to  settle  there.  These  bottoms,  as  a rule,  appeared  very 
rich ; but  in  the  absence  of  rain  there  for  months,  were 
no  better  than  a dust  heap.  At  Snake  River  Station, 
indeed,  attempts  had  been  made  to  raise  potatoes,  and 
io 


218 


GREAT  AMERICAN  FALLS 


other  garden  vegetables,  and  the  results  seemed  encour- 
aging. No  doubt,  rye,  oats,  barley,  and  flax  might  be 
grown  there  thus  very  readily ; but  probably  the  region 
is  too  elevated,  and  too  far  north,  for  the  more  delicate 
cereals  to  succeed  well. 

The  great  American  Falls  of  Snake  River  were 
twenty  miles  or  so  farther  up,  and,  much  to  our  regret, 
we  failed  to  reach  them.  Mr.  Halsey  intended  taking 
us  that  way,  but  he  was  already  overdue  in  Boise,  and 
as  I myself  had  lost  a fortnight  by  illness  at  Salt  Lake, 
and  the  weather  was  threatening,  we  concluded  to 
hasten  on.  These  falls  have  been  described  by  some 
travellers,  as  much  superior  to  Niagara ; but  the 
station-keeper  at  Snake  River  said  he  had  visited  them 
the  previous  spring,  and  they  seemed  to  him  to  be  only 
about  a hundred  feet  or  so  in  height  in  all.  He 
described  them,  as  consisting  of  two  Falls — the  first 
about  twenty-five  feet  high,  with  foaming  rapids  to  the 
second  or  main  fall,  which  itself  then  goes  down  per- 
haps seventy-five  feet  or  so  more.  He  said,  however,  that 
a party  of  soldiers,  from  an  adjacent  post,  had  measured 
them  only  a few  weeks  before,  and  they  reported  them 
as  one  hundred  and  ninety-four  feet  high  in  all,  by 
perhaps  two  hundred  yards  wide,  and  with  the  black 
basaltic  walls  of  the  canon  rising  some  six  hundred  feet 
above  them  still,  on  either  side.  During  seasons  of 
high  water,  this  would  make  them  quite  worthy,  indeed, 
of  their  great  reputation.  But  the  volume  of  water 
there  for  many  months  in  the  year  must  be  so  small, 
that  it  is  to  be  doubted  whether  they  ordinarily 
approach  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  majestic  old 
Niagara.  However,  Idahoans  set  great  store  by  these 
Falls,  as  the  chief  wonder  of  all  that  region  ; and  as  the 


VALLEY  OF  THE  BOISE — 


219 


country  just  there  has  little  else  to  brag  of,  perhaps  it  is 
well  not  to  gainsay  them. 

From  the  Snake  to  the  Boise,  as  already  intimated, 
the  country  was,  if  anything,  still  more  barren  and 
desolate,  than  the  region  we  had  just  passed  over.  In 
some  places,  it  was  strewn  thick  for  miles  with  black 
volcanic  stones  and  rocks,  glazed  and  scarred  by  ancient 
tires,  with  no  signs  of  ordinary  animal  or  vegetable  life 
anywhere.  In  such  localities,  the  wolves  disappeared, 
and  even  the  inevitable  sage-brush  and  grease-wood  dis- 
dained to  grow ; or,  if  they  grew  at  all,  only  eked  out  a 
miserable  existence.  Once  across  this  high  “ divide,” 
however,  we  struck  the  valley  of  the  Boise,  which  soon 
introduced  us  to  an  excellent  region  again,  and  as  we 
neared  Boise  City  we  found  ranches  and  farms  every- 
where thickening  up.  Horses  and  cattle  were  out 
grazing  by  the  roadside  in  considerable  numbers,  and 
down  in  the  bottoms  frequent  squads  of  stacks  indicated, 
that  goodly  crops  of  hay  and  grain  had  been  cut  and 
harvested.  Wagons  now  appeared  again  on  the  road,  as 
beyond  Bear  Biver,  (we  had  not  met  a single  one  since 
leaving  there),  and  people  flocked  to  the  doors  and 
windows  as  the  stage  rolled  by.  Once  across  the  u divide” 
between  the  Snake  and  Boise,  the  whole  country  sloped 
gently  to  the  Boise,  and  we  spun  along  and  down  these 
descending  grades  at  a splendid  gait.  We  made  one 
hundred  and  twenty  miles,  in  the  last  twenty-two  hours 
out  from  Boise  City,  and  rolled  up  to  the  Overland 
House  with  our  last  team  as  fresh  and  garaeyas  stallions. 

Our  general  ride  from  Bear  Biver,  however,  was 
hardly  an  enviable  one.  There  were  but  three  of  us 
— Mr.  Halsey,  myself,  and  L.  We  had  mattrasses 
along,  which  we  carried  on  top  by  day,  and  at  night 
arranged  into  a passable  bed.  So,  too,  we  had  iridia- 


220 


A ROUGH  RIDE 


rubber  pillows,  and  robes  and  blankets  in  abundance. 
But  the  weather  was  very  disagreeable,  even  for  the  sea- 
son, and  though  convalescent  I vet  found  myself  far  from 
strong.  We  left  Bear  Biver  about  10  p.  m.,  in  an  ugly 
storm  of  rain  and  sleet,  well  tucked  in  for  a night’s  ride ; 
but  in  an  hour  or  so  were  roused  up  by  the  stage  coming 
to  a dead-halt,  and  the  driver  singing  out — it  sounded 
half-maliciously — “ Good  place  to  walk,  gents  ! Bad 
place  ahead  ! ” Out  we  got  for  a dismal  walk  of  a mile 
or  more,  through  a soft  and  yielding  bottom,  where  the 
horses  could  hardly  pull  the  empty  coach  through,  and 
then  in  again  with  muddy  boots  and  disgusted  feelings 
generally.  J ust  before  daybreak,  we  struck  a long  and 
steep  “ divide,”  where  the  sleet  had  thickened  into  snow, 
without  stiffening  the  ground  enough  to  bear  the  coach 
up,  and  here  again  we  had  another  cheerful  walk  of  a 
couple  of  miles  or  so,  to  relieve  the  blown  horses.  At 
King  Hill,  the  last  serious  “ divide”  before  reaching 
Boise,  we  had  another  promenade  ot  a-  mile  or  two, 
through  five  or  six  inches  of  snow,  just  after  midnight ; 
but  I managed  to  stick  by  the  stage.  The  weather  con- 
tinued raw  and  cold,  rainy  and  sleety,  by  turns,  and  we 
found  it  necessary  to  keep  well  wrapped  up,  except  in 
the  middle  of  the  day.  At  night  our  mattrasses  proved 
too  narrow  for  three,  after  all,  and  Halsey’s  shoulders  or 
knees  were  constantly  punching  into  either  L.  or  me.  He 
and  L.  usually  slept  right  along  all  night,  but  I got  scarcely 
a genteel  wink  from  Bear  River  to  Boise.  Bv  sunrise 
ordinarily  we  were  up,  and  then  came  a general  smoke  and 
talk  over  the  night’s  experience.  By  nine  or  ten  a.  m.  we 
halted  for  breakfast,  which  usually  consisted  of  chicory 
coffee,  stringy  beef  or  bacon,  and  saleratus-biscuit.  Some- 
times we  got  fried  potatoes  in  addition — which  helped 
the  meal  out  somewhat — but  not  often.  Late  at  night 


HARD  BILL  OF  FARE 


221 


we  stopped  for  dinner  (only  two  meals  a day),  which  was 
generally  only  a poor  edition  of  breakfast  over  again, 
with  the  courses  perchance  reversed.  Bilious  and  aguish 
with  that  accursed  mountain-fever  still  hanging  about 
me,  I need  scarcely  say,  I had  little  relish  for  such  a bill 
of  fare,  and  indeed  scarcely  ate  a “ square  meal  ” from 
Bear  River  to  Boise.  Fortunately,  among  other  extras, 
Mr.  Halsey  had  had  the  forethought  to  lay  in  a half  a 
bushel  of  apples,  just  fresh  from  the  tree  at  Salt  Lake, 
and  these  we  all  munched  ad  libitum  as  we  journeyed 
along.  They  were  always  juicy  and  cool,  piquant  and 
delicious,  when  nothing  else  was  palatable ; and  for  my 
part,  I really  don’t  see,  how'  I would  have  got  through 
without  them.  We  were  three  days  and  three  nights  on 
the  road  continuously,  never  stopping  except  forty  min- 
utes or  so  at  a time  for  meals.  The  last  twenty-four 
hours  out,  the  weather  was  raw  and  cold  even  for 
November;  and  as  we  rolled  into  Boise,  with  every  joint 
aching,  the  lights  of  a town  never  seemed  more  winning 
and  welcome.  At  the  Overland  House,  they  were 
already  full.  But  they  gave  us  a good  hot  supper,  fol- 
lowed by  a “ shake-down”  in  the  parlor,  and  every  com- 
fort at  their  disposal. 

A word  more  about  kind  Mr.  Halsey.  A New 
Yorker  by  birth,  he  drifted  west  when  a boy,  and  at  an 
early  age  became  clerk  on  a Mississippi  steamer.  Sub- 
sequently, he  followed  the  Army  in  1857  to  Utah,  and 
was  engaged  for  awhile  in  the  Q.  M.  Dep’t.  at  old  Camp 
Floyd.  Then  he  passed  into  Mr.  Holladay’s  employ,  and 
now  for  several  years  had  been  his  general  superintendent 
at  Salt-Lake,  with  a handsome  salary  of  course.  He  was 
a quick,  sharp  man,  about  thirty-five,  devoted  to  business, 
and  sure  to  make  money  anywhere,  if  there  was  money 
to  be  made.  Slightly  conservative,  he  was  still  a 6trong 


222 


STALWART  MR.  IIALSEV. 


Union  man,  and  especially  proud  of  Grant  and  Sherman, 
whom  he  had  known  before  the  war.  He  was  a robust 
and  hardy  man,  of  the  kind  that  can  chew  cast-iron  or 
digest  pebble-stones  (and  hence,  Idaho  pies  and  biscuit !), 
but  with  a heart  as  big  and  tender  as  a woman’s.  In  the 
spring  of  ’65,  he  attempted  to  stage  it  from  Atchison  to 
Salt  Lake,  but  had  to  walk  most  of  the  way,  because  of 
the  execrable  roads  that  season.  Day  after  day,  he  and  a 
single  companion  pushed  on  ahead  of  the  coach,  fre- 
quently fording  streams  up  to  their  arm-pits,  especially 
among  the  Mountains,  where  they  must  have  been  icy 
cold,  and  never  even  changed  their  clothes  the  whole 
way.  They  were  never  dry,  or  even  comfortably  warm, 
for  a day  together ; and  yet  they  reached  Salt  Lake  all 
right,  and  he  said,  never  seemed  to  mind  it.  It  is  of 
such  men,  that  the  Border  is  made  up,  and  these  are  the 
ones  that  accomplish  such  miracles  out  there.  Such  men 
are  always  the  pioneers  of  the  race,  and  the  rightful 
founders  of  empire.  “ Natural  Selection,”  I suppose, 
steps  in  and  duly  provides  them,  by  the  “survival  of  the 
littest.”  We  were  indebted  to  him  for  man}7  courtesies, 
in  various  ways,  and  would  duly  acknowledge  this  here. 
Afterwards  we  met  him  in  San  Francisco,  and  subse- 
quently, I believe,  he  settled  in  New  York.  Stalwart, 
go-ahead,  whole-souled  Mr.  Halsey,  good  fortune  attend 
you,  wherever  you  may  go  ! 


CHAPTER  XIY. 


BOISE  CITY  TO  THE  COLUMBIA. 

IDAHO,  one  of  the  latest  of  our  new  Territories,  was 
formed  by  lopping  off  the  eastern  prolongations  of 
Oregon  and  Washington,  and  calling  the  incipient  state 
by  that  euphoneous  name.  Lewiston,  the  head  of  navi- 
gation then,  via  the  Columbia,  was  originally  its  capital; 
but  the  “ shrieks  of  locality'’  demanded  a more  central 
position,  and  so  Boise  City  secured  the  honor.  We 
found  it  (Nov.,  I860)  a mushroom  town  of  log  and  frame 
buildings,  but  thoroughl}’  alive  every  way.  Three  years 
before,  there  was  nothing  there  but  the  Boise  bottoms, 
and  a scattered  ranch  or  two.  Now  she  boasted  three 
thousand  inhabitants,  two  daily  newspapers,  stage-lines 
in  all  directions,  and  ebullient  prosperity.  A hotel,  of 
large  capacity,  that  was  to  u take  the  shine”  out  of  all 
the  rest,  was  just  being  completed.  The  Episcopalians 
and  Presbyterians  already  had  their  churches  up,  and  the 
Methodists  were  expecting  soon  to  build  theirs,  though 
then  worshipping  temporarily  in  the  Court  House.  Ex- 
cellent free-schools,  to  accommodate  all  the  children  and 
more,  abounded,  and  the  sermon  we  heard  on  Sunday 
was  chiefly  a “ pitching  into”  Brigham  Young,  largely 
for  the  want  of  these.  The  preacher  had  been  down  to 
Salt  Lake,  spying  out  the  land  for  missionary  purposes, 
and  had  returned  filled  with  hearty  unction  against  the 
whole  system  of  Mormonism.  Boise  City  was  then  the 
io* 


224 


BOTSE  CITY  ITSELF 


centre  of  the  mining  regions  of  Idaho,  though  not  of 
them — like  Denver,  as  related  to  Colorado.  The  mines 
were  chiefly  miles  away,  at  Owyhee,  Ruby,  Idaho  City, 
and  Silver  City  ; but  all  business  sprang  from  and  con- 
verged here  at  Boise,  as  the  most  central  point,  all  things 
considered,  and  most  of  the  “ bricks”  dropped  first  into 
her  lap.  Mining  operations  were  mostly  over  for  that 
season,  and  the  streets  and  saloons  of  Boise  were 
thronged  with  rough  miners,  en  route  for  the  Columbia, 
or  even  California,  to  winter  and  return.  They  claimed 
they  could  save  money  by  this  temporary  exodus — the 
price  of  living  was  so  high  in  Idaho — and  at  the  same 
time  escape  the  rigor  of  the  climate.  With  expansive 
hats,  clad  chiefly  in  red-shirts,  and  “ bearded  like  a pard,” 
every  man  carried  his  bowie-knife  and  revolver,  and 
seemed  ready  for  any  emergency.  They  were  evidently 
a rougher  crowd,  than  the  Colorado  miners,  and  in  talking 
with  them  proved  to  be  from  California,  Arizona,  Nevada, 
Oregon,  Frazer’s  River,  Montana,  and  about  everywhere 
else,  except  Alaska.  Your  true  miner  is  a cosmopolite, 
who  has  “ prospected”  everywhere,  from  the  British 
Dominion  to  Mexico,  and  he  is  always  ready  to  depart  for 
any  new  “ diggings,”  that  promise  better  than  where  he 
is,  on  half  a day’s  notice,  no  matter  how  far.  His 
possessions  are  small,  soon  bundled  up  or  disposed  of, 
and  he  mocks  at  the  old  maxim,  “ A rolling  stone  gathers 
no  moss,”  though  usually  he  is  a good  exemplification 
of  it. 

The  chief  business  of  Boise,  just  then,  seemed  to  be 
drinking  whiskey,  and  gambling.  The  saloons  were  the 
handsomest  buildings  in  town,  and  were  thronged  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night.  The  gamblers  occupied 
corners  of  these,  and  drove  a brisk  trade  unmolested  by 
anybody.  The  restaurants  were  also  important  points 


JOHN  CHIN  A.MAN 


225 


of  interest,  and  gave  excellent  meals  at  not  unreasonable 
prices,  all  things  considered.  Here  at  Boise,  our  U.  S. 
greenbacks  for  the  first  ceased  to  be  “ currency,”  and 
the  precious  metals  became  the  only  circulating  medium. 
It  did  one’s  eyes  good  to  see  our  old  gold  and  silver  coins 
in  use  once  more,  though  gold  and  silver  “ dust”  was 
also  a recognized  medium  of  exchange.  All  the  stores, 
restaurants,  and  saloons  kept  a delicate  pair  of  scales, 
and  their  customers  carried  buck-skin  or  leather  bags  of 
“ dust,”  from  which  they  made  payment,  and  into  which 
they  returned  their  change.  Disputes  now  and  then 
arose,  from  the  “ dust”  offered  not  being  up  to  the  stand- 
ard ; but  these  were  usually  settled  amicably,  unless  the 
“ dust”  proved  basely  counterfeit,  and  then  the  saloons 
sometimes  flashed  with  bowie-knives,  or  rung  with 
revolvers. 

Here,  also  at  Boise,  for  the  first,  we  met  John  China- 
man. Quite  a number  of  the  Celestials  had  alread}7 
reached  Idaho  from  California,  via  the  Columbia,  and 
were  scattered  through  the  towns,  as  waiters,  cooks,  laund- 
erers,  etc.  A few  had  sought  the  mines,  but  not  many,  as 
they  preferred  the  protection  of  the  towns.  Along  with 
the  rest,  these  Chinese  miners  were  also  migrating  to  the 
Columbia  and  beyond  ; and  as  they  paid  their  stage- 
fare  and  rode,  while  many  others  footed  it  to  the 
“River,”  of  course,  we  augured  well  of  them.  The 
imbecile,  brutal,  and  barbarous  laws  of  the  whole  Pacific 
Coast,  where  Chinamen  are  concerned,  it  appeared,  how- 
ever, were  still  in  force  in  Idaho.  A good  illustration  of 
their  practical  workings  had  just  occurred  over  in  Owy- 
hee, or  somewhere  there,  and  should  be  recorded  here. 
Three  or  four  ruffians  over  there,  it  appears,  had  set 
upon  an  unoffending  Chinaman  at  work  in  the  mines, 
and  had  first  abused  and  insulted  him,  and  then  robbed 


226 


Idaho’s  mines — 


and  killed  him.  Other  miners,  hearing  of  the  circum- 
stances, arrested  the  murderers  and  took  them  before  an 
Idaho  Dogberry,  who  promptly  liberated  them  on  the 
ground,  that  no  Anglo-Saxon  was  present  at  the  transac- 
tion, and  that  the  Chinamen  (who  were)  were  incompe- 
tent as  witnesses,  as  against  white  men  ! This  was  good 
Idado  Law  and  Justice,  no  doubt.  But  it  was  too  strong 
for  the  indignant  miners,  and  the  same  day  J udge  Lynch 
amended  it,  by  hanging  all  the  miscreants  in  the  nearest 
gulch.  This  was  rude  law,  and  rough  justice,  no  doubt ; 
but  was  it  not  infinitely  better,  than  the  absurd  and  inhu- 
man code  of  the  Pacific  Coast  ? 

Idaho,  as  a whole,  seemed  then  to  be  at  a stand-still, 
and  her  merchants,  as  a rule,  were  sighing  for  the  flush 
times  of  ’63  and  ’64,  when  our  miners  were  on  the  rush 
there.  Her  total  yield  of  the  precious  metals  for  ’66 
was  computed  at  about  $5,000,000,  against  Montana’s 
$15,000,000.  Boss  Browne,  indeed,  with  “ conspicu- 
ous inexactness,”  reported  Idaho  at  $15,000,000  that 
year ; but  nearly  everybody  seemed  to  think  this  at 
least  three  times  too  much  — Mr.  Halsey,  who  was  a 
good  judge,  especially.  Her  “ placer  ” mines,  or  “ dig- 
gings,” it  was  thought,  were  already  well  exhausted,  and 
her  quartz-mining  will  always  prove  very  expensive, 
because  of  the  scarcity  of  fuel,  and  the  heavy  cost  of 
transportation.  Bailroads,  it  wras  hoped,  would  cheapen 
both  of  these  items  in  the  future,  but  as  yet  they  seemed 
distant.  From  the  Columbia  to  Boise  City,  was  only  about 
three  hundred  miles,  and  yet  the  charge  then  for  trans- 
portation over  this  short  distance  was  more  than  half  the 
charge  from  the  Missouri  to  Salt  Lake,  some  twelve  hun- 
dred miles.  This  was  explained,  as  one  result  of  their 
coin  basis,  and  of  the  high  price  of  wages,  and  everything 


A LUCKY  PAYMASTER — 


227 


else  in  Idaho.  But  the  fact  remained,  as  an  ugly  circum- 
stance, for  Boise  to  digest. 

Fort  Boise,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  was  head- 
quarters of  military  affairs  in  Idaho,  but  had  ceased  to 
be  of  much  importance.  The  Territorial  Legislature 
had  already  applied  to  the  proper  Department  at  Wash- 
ington, for  the  post  buildings,  for  use  of  the  Territorial 
Government,  and  the  troops  were  ready  to  vacate  any 
day.  We  stopped  there  a week,  studying  Idaho  affairs 
generally,  and  were  delightfully  entertained  by  the  post- 
officers. One  of  them  had  been  stationed  in  California, 
at  Benicia  Barracks,  when  the  war  broke,  out,  and  he 
gave  us  an  interesting  account  of  the  attempted  Rebel 
movement  there,  which  the  sudden  ar  rival  of  Gen.  Sumner 
on  the  Coast  so  effectually  squelched.  Another  was  a 
Baltimorean,  who  by  reading  the  Tribune  had  become  a 
staunch  Republican,  and  was  one  of  the  intensest  Union 
men  I ever  met.  One  day  a Paymaster  happened  along, 
whose  baggage  a fortnight  before  had  been  robbed  of 
$65,000  in  greenbacks,  and  an  equal  amount  in  vouchers, 
■while  he  was  taking  supper  at  Fort  Boise.  At  first,  he 
was  paralyzed  to  lose  such  an  amount,  in  that  wild  region. 
But  subsequently  he  struck  a “ lead,”  and  followed  it  up 
with  the  pertinacity  of  a sleuth-hound,  until  he  recovered 
most  of  the  money  and  vouchers,  and  arrested  all  the 
thieves.  His  success  was  simply  wonderful  for  Idaho, 
and  his  story  sounded  more  like  romance  than  sober 
reality,  as  he  told  of  the  long  chase  and  final  capture, 
with  the  finding  of  his  greenbacks  in  carpet-bags,  knap- 
sacks, etc.,  buried  by  the  roadside,  and  some  even  under 
the  ruts  of  the  very  roadway.  While  halting  there,  the 
news  also  reached  us  by  telegraph  of  the  November 
elections  East,  and  the  final  outcome  of  Mr.  Johnson’s 
“ Swinging  round  the  circle  ! ” Army  officers  though 


228 


THE  COUNTRY  GENERALLY 


we  were,  we  could  not  repress  a mild  hurrah,  and  how 
intensely  proud  we  felt  of  the  loyal  North ! Surely  we 
were  a great  and  noble  people,  after  all.  Step  by  step— 
nulla  vestigia  retrorsum — we  had  overcome  all  obstacles, 
in  the  name  of  Humanity  and  Justice ; and  now,  evidently 
our  reactionary  leaders  had  better  take  care  how  they 
trifled  writh  the  Republic ! We  talked  it  all  over  among 
ourselves,  as  we  sat  around  the  camp-fires,  at  that  distant 
post  in  Idaho ; and  thanked  God  for  America,  and  that 
there  was  “life  in  the  old  land  yet ! ” 

Recruited  up  again  pretty  well  by  our  stay  at 
Boise,  we  left  there  Nov.  19th  for  Umatilla  and  the 
Columbia.  Stages  ran  three  times  a week,  but  they 
were  going  so  crowded,  and  the  roads  were  reported  so 
heavy,  that  I deemed  it  more  advisable  to  proceed  by 
ambulance.  It  was  three  hundred  miles,  and  by  ambu- 
lance it  would  take  three  times  as  long;  but  this  would 
give  me  an  opportunity  of  resting  at  night,  and  I feared 
to  venture  on  otherwise,  anxious  as  we  were  to  reach 
the  Columbia  before  winter  set  in.  Our  route  lay 
substantially  down  the  valley  of  the  Boise,  and  other 
tributaries  of  the  Snake,  to  the  Snake  at  Farewell  Bend, 
and  thence  across  the  Blue  Mountains  to  the  Umatilla, 
and  down  that  to  the  Columbia.  The  chief  tributaries 
of  the  Snake  just  there  were  the  Boise,  Pratt’s  River, 
Burnt  River,  and  Powder  River,  and  we  traversed  the 
valleys  of  each  of  these  successively.  These  valleys  were 
all  substantially  alike,  and  consisted  usually  of  bottoms 
from  two  to  three  miles  wide,  very  fertile  throughout, 
but  all  requiring  irrigation,  except  for  grass  which  grew 
tolerably  well  without  this.  Here  and  there  irrigation 
had  been  resorted  to,  to  some  extent,  with  fine  crops  in 
return  ; but  only  a very  little  of  the  land  had  yet  been 
brought  under  cultivation.  Generally,  beyond  these 


VALLEY  OF  THE  SNAKE 


229 


bottoms,  on  either  side,  were  elevated  benches  or  plateaus, 
from  five  to  six  miles  in  width,  extending  back  to  the 
outlying  bluffs  or  mountains.  These  were  covered 
chiefly  with  the  inevitable  sage-brush  and  grease-wood ; 
but  the  soil  looked  fat  and  fertile  enough,  and  evidently 
required  only  patient  irrigation,  to  become  as  prolific  as 
the  fields  of  Utah.  Water  for  this  might  be  supplied  in 
part  from  the  rivers  mentioned,  and  in  part  perhaps  from 
the  neighboring  canons,  if  they  be  not  dry  canons.  The 
chief  drawback  of  the  country  to  the  Snake,  indeed, 
seemed  to  be  the  scarcity  of  timber,  for  fencing  and 
building  purposes.  For  fuel,  coal  had  been  discovered, 
both  at  Farewell  Bend  and  near  Boise  City  ; but  timber 
for  other  purposes  was  everywhere  scarce  and  dear.  In 
the  valley  of  the  Boise,  “ Shanghai  ” fences  were  frequent, 
such  as  we  had  seen  in  eastern  Kansas ; but  the  Idahoans 
used  thongs  instead  of  nails,  to  fasten  the  boards  or 
rails  to  the  posts — hides  evidently  being  cheaper  there, 
than  hardware. 

The  valley  of  the  Snake,  most  sinuous  of  rivers,  as 
its  name  well  indicates,  proved  scarcely  better,  than 
where  we  had  crossed  it  several  hundred  miles  farther  up, 
a fortnight  or  so  before.  But  the  Snake  itself  had  now 
swelled  into  a broad  and  majestic  river.  We  travelled 
down  its  banks  for  ten  or  twelve  miles,  and  found  its 
rocky  and  precipitous  bluffs  came  quite  down  to  the 
river  generally ; and  where  this  was  not  the  case,  there 
were  often  only  great  banks  of  sand,  whirled  into  such 
sheltered  places  by  the  winds  of  ages.  Indifferent  timber 
appeared  here  and  there,  but  not  much  to  speak  of. 
The  road  wound  along  close  to  the  bluffs,  and  was  often 
quarried  out  of  them,  without  room  for  more  than  one 
team  to  pass  at  a time.  We  passed  one  such  place  by 
moonlight,  with  the  bluff*  high  above  and  the  river  deep 


230 


SNAKE  RIVER  AGAIN 


below,  but  fortunately  got  through  safely.  We  reasoned, 
that  the  usual  trains  would  have  gone  into  camp  by 
sundown,  and  took  the  chances  for  any  accidental  travel- 
lers like  ourselves.  It  was  a beautiful  night,  with  the  moon 
out  in  all  her  glory,  walking  a cloudless  sky  and  filling  the 
canon  of  the  Snake  with  a flood  of  light ; but  we  were 
not  sorry  when  we  heard  the  lowing  of 'the  cattle,  and  the 
wee-hawing  of  the  mules,  belonging  to  the  trains  in  camp 
beyond.  It  was  eight  p.  m.,  (Nov.  20th),  when  we 
reached  Farewell  Bend,  and  here  crossed  the  Snake  again 
on  a stout  ferry-boat  propelled  by  the  current. 

Farewell  Bend — a hamlet  of  half  a dozen  houses — is 
so  called,  because  here  the  Snake  makes  a sudden  turn 
north,  and  goes  off  in  a wide  circuit  through  the  moun- 
tains of  Idaho  and  Oregon,  instead  of  keeping  straight 
on  to  the  Columbia,  as  it  seems  it  should  have  done. 
Here,  too,  is  where  the  great  Emigrant  Trail,  from  the 
Missouri  to  the  Columbia,  finally  leaves  the  Snake,  and 
hence  also  perhaps  the  name  to  this  bend.  The 
Snake,  or  Lewis’  Fork  of  the  Columbia,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  altogether  is  a right  noble  stream — by  far  the 
largest  in  all  that  region — and  it  seemed  would  yet  be 
made  available  for  navigation,  though  now  badly  beset 
with  reefs  and  rapids.  A steamboat  had  already  been 
built  at  Farewell  Bend,  to  run  up  to  the  neighborhood  of 
Boise  and  beyond ; but  that  was  her  first  season,  and  the 
results  were  yet  to  be  seen.  It  was  said,  that  by  starting 
early  in  the  season,  she  could  reach  a point  within  about 
two  hundred  miles  of  Salt  Lake,  and  thus  communicate 
with  a vast  region  there,  then  comparatively  isolated. 
A fine  vein  of  good  bituminous  coal  had  just  been 
opened  in  the  overhanging  bluff*  at  Farewell  Bend,  and 
here  was  fuel  cheap  for  all  the  country  up  the  Snake. 
Below  Farewell  Bend  there  were  rapids  that  would  have 


BAKER  CITY 


231 


to  be  circumvented  by  slack-water  navigation  or  railroad 
portages,  the  same  as  on  the  Columbia.  But  with  this 
done,  the  Snake  had  long  stretches  of  navigable  waters, 
that  needed  only  population  and  business  to  make  them 
teem  with  commerce.  The  same  Company,  that  made 
the  Columbia  navigable,  also  built  the  boat  at  Farewell 
Bend,  and  doubtless  intended  to  push  the  enterprise, 
though  what  they  have  since  accomplished  I can  not 
say. 

The  Snake  is  the  western  boundary  of  Idaho,  and, 
having  crossed  it  at  Farewell  Bend,  we  were  now  fairly 
in  Oregon.  We  soon  struck  the  valley  of  Burnt  River, 
and  followed  it  up  for  many  miles.  At  first,  it  abounded 
in  wild  and  rocky  canons,  that  seemed  to  have  no 
outlet;  but  farther  on,  it  widened  out,  and  frequent 
ranches  dotted  its  broad  and  fertile  bottoms.  Powder 
River  valley,  the  next  beyond,  was  more  promis- 
ing still.  This  contained  thousand  of  acres  of  rich 
grass  lands,  and  hundred  of  settlers  had  already  pre- 
empted homes  there.  Cattle  and  sheep  were  grazing 
along  the  bottoms  in  considerable  numbers,  and  the 
adjacent  mountains,  we  were  told,  abounded  in  timber 
for  all  necessary  purposes.  At  Baker  City,  in  the  heart 
of  Powder  River  valley,  we  halted  one  day  for  dinner, 
and  found  a brisk  little  town  of  perhaps  five  hundred 
inhabitants  or  so.  It  contained  two  quite  respectable 
hotels,  and  at  one  of  them  we  got  a plain  but  excellent 
dinner.  Just  in  the  suburbs,  we  found  a ten  stamp 
quartz -mill  in  full  blast,  much  to  our  surprise,  yielding 
— it  was  said — a clear  profit  of  $4,000  in  coin  per  month. 
The  ores  came  from  a silver  mine,  ten  or  twelve  miles 
away  in  the  mountains,  and  the  mill  was  located  here  to 
take  advantage  of  Powder  River,  which  was  here  really 
a fine  stream. 


232 


GRANDE  RONDE  VALLEY 


Farther  on,  after  a long  and  tedions  drive  up  and  across 
a stony  “ divide,”  we  came  suddenly  out  on  Grande  Ronde 
valley,  and  were  amazed  at  its  beauty  and  fertility.  At 
first  view,  it  seemed  almost  circular,  and  looked  like  a 
vast  bowl  hollowed  out  of  the  mountains  there.  Moun- 
tains bristling  with  pine  or  fir-trees  rimmed  it  in  on  all 
sides,  while  in  their  midst  the  valley  reposed,  as  if  a 
dried  up  lake.  Some  thirty  miles  in  length,  by  twenty- 
five  in  width,  it  contains  over  six  hundred  square  miles 
of  the  very  washings  of  the  mountains — the  whole  as  rich 
and  fertile  as  a garden.  Cedar,  fir,  pine,  and  oak  abound 
in  the  embracing  mountains;  but  the  valley  itself  is  as 
bare  of  timber,  as  an  Illinois  prairie.  Numberless 
springs  burst  out  of  the  mountain  sides,  and  coalescing 
into  streams  gridiron  the  valley — uniting  at  last  in  Grande 
Ronde  River,  which  flows  thence  to  the  Snake.  In 
places,  we  were  told,  there  are  hot  mineral  springs  also, 
but  we  saw  none  of  these.  The  edges  of  the  valley — seem- 
ingly like  the  rim  of  a plate — were  already  sprinkled 
well  with  ranches,  while  horses,  cattle,  and  sheep  by  the 
thousand  were  grazing  off  in  the  bottoms.  But  few 
houses  appeared  in  the  bottoms  yet — the  settlers  appa- 
rently preferring  to  hug  the  mountains.  The  wheat  crop 
of  the  valley  that  year  alone  was  computed  at  half  a 
million  of  bushels,  and  large  quantities  of  oats,  barley, 
potatoes  etc.,  had  been  raised  besides.  Indian  corn,  or 
maize,  however,  had  never  flourished  well,  and  it  was 
doubted  if  it  would — it  being  so  far  north.  Even  here, 
though,  irrigation  had  to  be  resorted  to  for  most  summer 
crops,  but  down  in  the  bottoms  grass  grew  luxuriantly 
without  this.  Grande  Ronde,  indeed,  resembles  the  great 
parks  of  Colorado,  only  her  soil  is  far  finer,  and  if  culti- 
vated to  the  full,  along  with  Powder  River  and  Burnt 
River,  would  alone  supply  Idaho  with  pretty  much  all 


LE  GRANDE — 


233 


she  needs.  We  met  old  settlers  there,  who  years  before 
had  emigrated  thither  from  Missouri  and  Illinois, 
tempted  by  the  wondrous  beauty  and  fertility  of  the 
place,  and  one  could  not  wonder  at  their  choice  of  a 
home.  In  all  that  region  we  saw  nothing  like  Grande 
Ronde,  and  indeed  but  few  places  to  compare  with  it 
from  the  Missouri  to  the  Columbia.  Its  only  drawback 
seemed  to  be  the  severe  winds,  which  prevail  there  much 
of  the  year.  It  appeared  strange,  that  a valley  so 
embosomed  in  mountains  should  be  troubled  so  with 
winds.  But  it  seemed  to  be  a sort  of  funnel,  and  they 
said  the  winds  were  often  fierce  and  continuous  there, 
for  long  periods  together.  Nevertheless,  unless  these  ap- 
proximate to  hurricanes  or  tempests,  we  could  only  s&y, 
“ Blessed  be  the  man  who  dwells  in  Grande  Ronde  ! ” 

Le  Grande,  the  county-seat,  we  found  to  be  a thriving 
town  of  a thousand  or  so  inhabitants,  and  the  largest  and 
busiest  place  by  far  since  leaving  Boise.  At  the  foot  of 
the  Mountains,  where  the  road  from  the  Columbia 
debouches  into  Grande  Ronde,  it  caught  a large  amount 
of  trade  and  travel  that  way,  and  also  did  considerable 
business  with  several  gold  and  silver  mines  in  the  adja- 
cent mountains.  These  mines,  it  seemed,  were  not 
believed  to  amount  to  much  ; but  they  helped  to  sustain 
and  build  up  Le  Grande,  and  so  were  welcomed.  Just 
then  the  town  was  discouraged  somewhat,  by  the 
recent  transfer  of  the  mail-route  to  Uniontown.  But  as 
the  county-seat,  with  two  weekly  papers,  and  Grande 
Ronde  to  back  her,  she  would  evidently  continue  to  pros- 
per, notwithstanding  her  loss  of  the  stages.  A smart 
church,  and  a really  fine  public-school-house,  graced  the 
plateau  beyond  the  town — both  of  which  spoke  volumes 
for  Le  Grande.  The  main  street,  however,  was  almost 
impassable  for  the  deep  and  unctuous  mud  ; but  by  keep- 


234 


A SLOW  TEAM  VS.  A GOOD  ONE — 


ing  straight  ahead,  and  a little  careful  manoeuvring,  we 
managed  to  reach  “ Our  House,”  the  most  respectable 
looking  hotel,  at  last.  Here  the}’  gave  us  excellent 
accommodations  for  the  night,  and  the  next  morning  we 
started  to  cross  the  Blue  Mountains. 

We  had  left  Boise  with  a four-mule  team,  but  at  the 
end  of  the  first  day  our  lead-mules  gave  out,  and  we  had 
to  hire  a pair  of  ponies  to  take  their  places.  These 
ponies — the  only  animals  we  could  secure — were  bright 
and  active  little  nags,  and  with  them  at  the  head  we 
posted  along,  at  the  rate  of  forty  or  fifty  miles  per  day 
very  readily.  But  at  Powder  Biver,  one  of  them  becom- 
ing lame,  we  were  compelled  also  to  drop  the  other,  and 
this  reduced  us  to  only  our  original  wheel-mules — a pair 
of  large,  but  antiquated,  and  sorry-looking  donkeys, 
that  entertained  grave  constitutional  objections  to  any 
gait  faster  than  a walk.  When  we  struck  a bit  of  extra 
good  road — especially  if  a little  down  hill — our  dri- 
ver usually  managed,  by  much  pounding  and  profanity, 
to  persuade  them  into  a mild  trot.  But  when  we  reached 
the  bottoms,  or  if  a “ divide”  appeared,  they  speedily 
gravitated  again  into  their  natural  creep.  We  were  all  day 
long  making  our  last  twenty-six  miles  out  from  Le  Grande, 
and  it  was  clear  we  would  never  get  over  the  Blue- 
Mountains  with  this  pokey  team,  if  the  roads  were  as 
reported.  Fortunately,  at  Le  Grande,  we  succeeded  in 
hiring  a fresh  team,  of  four  fine  and  spirited  horses,  and 
with  these  we  swung  out  of  the  town  (Nov.  24th)  on  a 
good  round  trot — a delightful  contrast  to  our  snail-like 
pace  on  coming  in.  We  had  sighted  the  Blue  Mountains 
— the  northern  prolongation  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas — two 
days  before,  soon  after  leaving  Baker  City,  and  all  along 
had  got  ugly  accounts  of  the  condition  of  the  roads  there. 
Their  bald  summits  already  showed  snow  here  and  there, 


THE  BLUE  MOUNTAINS 


235 


and  for  a day  or  two  another  snow-storm  had  been  low- 
ering in  the  sky,  much  to  our  anxiety.  But  as  we  rolled 
out  of  Le  Grande,  the  sun  came  out  bright  and  clear,  and 
with  our  ambulance  stout  and  strong,  and  our  high-step- 
ping steeds,  all  the  auspices  seemed  to  change  in  our 
favor.  We  soon  struck  the  Le  Grande  river,  and  follow- 
ed this  up  for  several  miles,  through  wild  and  pictur- 
esque canons,  or  along  the  shelving  sides  of  the  moun- 
tains, where  often  two  teams  could  hardly  pass.  The 
Le  Grande  carried  us  well  up  and  into  the  Mountains,  and 
every  hour  the  scenery  became  grander  and  wilder. 
Grande  Ronde  valley  soon  passed  out  of  sight ; but,  as  we 
ascended,  from  various  points  we  caught  exquisite  views 
of  the  wide-stretching  ranges  and  valleys  beyond.  Far- 
ther up,  we  became  environed  with  hills  and  gorges, 
covered  thick  with  gigantic  fir-trees,  though  here  and 
there  a clump  of  cedars  or  pines  appeared.  All  along  we 
met  the  wild  snow-drop,  loaded  down  with  its  berries,  and 
in  sheltered  nooks  saw  the  wild  currant,  with  here  and 
there  harebells,  though  these  were  rare.  The  mountain- 
laurel  also  occurred  frequently ; but  the  great  predomi- 
nating growth  was  the  Oregon  fir,  from  the  size  of  a bam- 
boo cane  to  the  leafy  monarch,  “ fit  to  be  the  mast  of 
some  great  admiral.”  The  road  was  constructed  on  the 
cork-screw  principle — much  around  to  get  a little  ahead 
— but  after  countless  twistings  and  turnings,  we  at  length 
reached  the  summit,  long  after  noon.  Here  we  found  a 
comparatively  level  plateau,  some  two  or  three  miles  in 
width,  with  only  a few  scattered  fir-trees,  swept  keenly 
by  the  wind,  from  which  we  slowly  descended  over  the 
remains  of  a once  corduroyed  road  to  “ Meacham’s.” 
We  arriyed  at  u Meacham’s”  about  4 r.  m. — only  twenty- 
six  miles  from  Le  Grande,  after  all ; but  as  it  was  still 
twelve  miles  to  “ Crawford’s,”  the  next  ranch,  at  the 


236 


A HARD  ROAD  TO  TRAVEL 


northern  foot  of  the  Mountains,  it  seemed  imprudent  to 
venture  on  that  day. 

As  to  the  wagoning,  I need  scarcely  say,  it  well 
exemplified,  with  abounding  emphasis,  “ Jordan’s  a hard 
road  to  travel ! ” The  roads,  indeed,  as  a whole,  after 
we  got  up  into  the  Mountains,  were  simply  execrable, 
and  our  ride  in  that  respect  anything  but  romantic.  All 
along  the  route,  we  found  freight-trains,  bound  for  Boise 
City  and  the  Mines,  hopelessly  “ stalled.”  Some  of  the 
wagons  with  a broken  wheel  or  axle,  had  already  been 
abandoned.  Others  were  being  watched  over  by  their 
drivers,  stretched  on  their  blankets  around  huge  fires  by 
the  roadside,  smoking  or  sleeping,  patiently  awaiting 
their  comrades,  who  had  taken  their  oxen  or  mules  to 
double-up  on  some  team  ahead,  and  would  return  with 
double  teams  for  them  to-morrow  or  next  day,  or  the 
day  after — whenever  they  themselves  got  through. 
Snow  had  already  fallen  on  the  Mountains,  once  or  twice 
that  season  ; we  found  several  inches  of  it  still  in  various 
places,  and  the  air  and  sky  both  threatened  more,  as  the 
day  wore  on.  Yet  these  rough  freighters  looked  upon 
the  “ situation  ” very  philosophically,  and  appeared  quite 
indifferent  whether  they  got  on  or  stayed.  If  it  snowed, 
the  forest  afforded  plenty  of  wood,  their  wagons  plenty 
of  provisions,  and  their  wages  went  on  just  the  same ; 
so  where  was  the  use  of  worrying  ? This  seemed  to  be 
about  the  way  they  philosophized,  and  accustomed  to 
the  rude  life  of  the  Border,  they  did  not  mind  “ roughing 
it”  a little.  An  old  army  friend  used  often  to  parade 
a pet  theory  of  his,  that  a man  could  not  associate 
much  with  horses,  without  directly  deteriorating.  “ The 
horse,”  he  would  say,  “ may  gain  largely,  but  it  will 
only  be  at  the  expense  of  the  man.  Our  cavalry  and 
artillery  officers  always  were  the  wickedest  men  in  the 


TEAMSTERS,  AS  A CLASS — 


237 


service,  and  all  because  of  their  equine  associations. 
The  animals,  indeed,  become  almost  human ; but  in 
the  same  proportion,  the  men  become  animals ! ” I 
always  thought  him  about  half-right ; but  if  this  be  true 
as  to  intimacy  with  horses,  what  must  be  the  effect  on 
men  of  long  and  constant  association  with  mules  or  oxen  ! 
I thought  I saw  a good  deal  of  this  in  mule-drivers  in 
the  army,  in  Virginia  and  Tennessee;  but  a harder  or 
rougher  set,  than  the  ox-men  or  “ bull-whackers”  (as  they 
call  themselves)  of  the  Plains  and  Mountains,  it  would 
be  difficult  perhaps  to  tind,  or  even  imagine.  On  the 
road  here  in  the  Blue  Mountains,  with  their  many- 
yoked  teams  struggling  through  the  mud  and  rocks, 
of  course,  they  were  in  their  element.  Outre , red- 
shirted,  big-booted,  brigand-looking  ruffians,  with  the 
inseparable  bowie-knife  and  revolver  buckled  around 
their  waists,  they  swung  and  cracked  their  great  whips 
like  fiends,  and  beat  their  poor  oxen  along,  as  if  they 
had  no  faith  in  the  law  of  kindness  here,  nor  belief  in  a 
place  of  punishment  hereafter.  And  when  they  came 
to  a really  bad  place — in  crossing  a stream,  or  when 
they  struck  a stump  or  foundered  in  a mud-hole — it  is 
hard  to  say  wdiether  their  prodigious,  multiplied,  and 
many-headed  oaths  were  more  grotesque  or  horrible. 
To  say  “ they  swore  till  all  was  blue,”  would  be  but  a 
feeble  comparison ; the  whole  Mountains  corruscated  with 
sulphur ! Some  lew  of  the  trains  consisted  only  of  horse 
and  mule  teams ; but  ox-teams  seemed  most  in  favor,  and 
slow  as  they  were,  we  took  quite  a fancy  to  them — they 
appeared  so  reliable.  When  the  roads  were  good,  they 
averaged  ten  or  twelve  miles  per  day,  and  subsisted  by 
grazing ; when  they  became  bad,  they  managed  to  flounder 
through  any  how — some  way  or  other.  At  extra  bad 
places,  the  teams  were  doubled  or  trebled  up,  and  then 


238 


OX-TEAMS  RELIABLE 


the  wagon  was  bound  to  come,  if  the  wood  and  iron  only 
held  together.  Twenty  or  thirty  yoke  of  oxen  straining 
to  the  chains,  with  the  ‘‘bull-whackers”  all  pounding 
and  yelling  like  mad,  their  huge  whip-lashes  thick  as 
one’s  wrist  cracking  like  pistols,  was  a sight  to  see — 
“muscular,”  indeed,  in  all  its  parts.  The  noise  and  con- 
fusion, the  oaths  and  thwacks  and  splashing  of  the 
mud,  made  it  indeed  the  very  hell  of  animals;  but,  for 
all  that,  the  wagon  was  sure  to  reach  terra  firma  at  last, 
no  matter  how  heavily  loaded,  or  pull  to  pieces.  We  had 
great  sympathy  for  the  patient,  faithful  oxen,  and  wished 
for  Mr.  Henry  Bergh  and  his  Cruelty-Prevention  Society 
many  a time  that  day.  Here,  indeed,  was  some  explana- 
tion of  the  high  rates  of  freight  from  the  Columbia  to 
Boise ; and  Idaho  would  find  it  to  her  interest  to  improve 
such  routes  of  transportation  forthwith. 

I need  scarcely  add,  it  was  a hard  day  on  our  noble 
horses,  but  they  carried  us  through  bravely.  Our  ambu- 
lance was  a light  spring  carriage,  with  only  L.  myself 
and  the  driver,  and  could  not  have  weighed  over  fifteen 
hundred  pounds,  baggage  and  all;  yet  it  was  just  as 
much  as  the  four  gamey  horses  wanted  to  do  to  haul 
us  along.  It  was  a steady,  dragging  pull  throughout, 
after  we  were  well  into  the  Mountains,  with  scarcely  any 
let-up  ; up-hill,  of  course,  most  of  the  way,  with  deep 
mud  besides ; chuck-holes  abounding,  and  quagmires  fre- 
quent; in  and  out,  and  around  freight-trains  “ stuck  ” in  the 
road  ; and  on  arriving  at  “ Meacham’s,”  our  gallant  team, 
though  by  no  means  exhausted,  yet  seemed  very  willing 
to  halt  for  the  night.  How  we  congratulated  ourselves 
on  securing  them,  before  quitting  Le  Grande  ! Had  we 
started  with  our  pair  of  dilapidated  donkeys,  we  would 
never  have  got  through  ; but  would  probably  have  had  to 
camp  out  in  the  Mountains  over  night,  and  send  back  for 


AN  ANXIOUS  DRIVE 


239 


another  team,  after  all.  Once  in  rounding  a rocky  hill- 
side, above  a yawning  chasm,  our  “ brake  ” snapped 
short  off,  early  in  the  forenoon  ; and  again,  in  one  of  the 
worst  quagmires,  our  drawing-rope  by  which  the  leaders 
were  attached  broke,  and  we  would  no  doubt  have  been 
hopelessly  ship-wrecked,  had  it  not  been  for  our  fore- 
thought on  leaving  Le  Grande.  Fortunately,  accustomed 
to  army  roads  on  the  Peninsula  and  in  Tennessee,  we 
laid  in  a supply  of  rope  and  nails  there,  with  a good 
stout  hatchet,  and  these  now  stood  us  in  excellent  stead. 
With  these  we  soon  repaired  all  damages  satisfactorily, 
and  went  on  our  way — not  exactly  rejoicing ; but  rather 
with  grave  apprehensions  lest  wTe  should  break  down 
entirely,  far  away  from  any  human  habitation,  and  have 
to  pass  a supperless  night  by  the  roadside,  or  around  a 
roaring  fire,  with  wolves,  bears,  and  such  like  “ varmints  ” 
perhaps  uncomfortably  near  about  us. 

So,  it  was,  we  were  glad  to  be  safe  at  “ Meacham’s,” 
at  last,  and  to  sit  down  to  the  generous  cheer  he  gave  us 
at  nightfall.  Though  8,000  feet  or  more,  above  the  sea, 
and  built  wholly  of  logs,  it  was  the  cleanest,  cheeriest, 
and  best  public-house  we  had  yet  seen  in  either  Oregon 
or  Idaho,  outside  of  Boise  City ; and  even  the  u Over- 
land” there  indeed  set  no  better  table,  if  as  good.  We 
did  ample  justice  to  the  luscious  venison,  sausage,  and 
pumpkin-pies,  that  they  gave  us  for  dinner  at  6 p.  m. 
— having  breakfasted  at  6 a.  m.,  and  eaten  nothing  since. 
Mr.  Meacham  himself,  our  genial  host,  was  a live  Ore- 
gonian, who  had  come  thither  from  Illinois  several  years 
before,  and  with  his  brother  now  owned  this  ranch,  and 
the  road  over  the  Blue  Mountains — such  as  it  was.  Bad 
as  it  was  just  then,  it  had  cost  them  a good  deal  of 
money,  first  and  last ; and  being  the  shortest  road  from 
navigation  on  the  Columbia  to  Idaho  and  Montana,  it 


240  at  “meacham’s” — 

had  paid  well  in  other  years,  when  there  was  a ■“  rush'’ 
of  miners  to  those  regions.  But  the  emigration  thither 
had  now  fallen  much  off,  and  besides  a competing  road 
had  been  opened  from  Wallula  on  the  Columbia — flank- 
ing the  Mountains  in  part — to  Union  town  in  Grande 
Bonde  valley,  and  so  beyond,  which  it  was  believed  would 
hurt  the  Meacham  Boad  seriously.  The  mail  now  went 
this  new  road,  and  trade  and  travel  it  was  thought  would 
be  apt  to  follow  the  stage-coaches.  Yet  Mr.  Meacham 
was  not  discouraged.  lie  was  a plucky,  wide-awake 
man,  some  forty  years  of  age,  with  brown  hair  and  stub-  * 
born-looking  beard,  and  in  general  looked  like  a person 
who  could  take  care  of  himself  well,  travel  or  no  travel. 
His  wife  was  a really  interesting  lady,  with  several  well- 
bred  children  ; and  in  the  evening,  when  we  asked  for 
something  to  read,  he  surprised  us  by  producing  a file 
of  the  JV.  Y.  Times , Greeley’s  American  Conflict,  and 
Baymond’s  Abraham  Lincoln.  He  had  been  a candidate 
for  the  Oregon  Legislature  at  the  recent  election,  and 
though  running  much  ahead  of  his  ticket,  had  been 
beaten  by  a small  majority.  He  explained,  that  “ the 
left  wing  of  Price’s  army”  was  still  encamped  in  that 
part  of  Oregon,  and  that  the  Oregon  democracy  general- 
ly were  only  a step  removed  from  Gov.  Price  and  Jef- 
ferson Davis.  The  early  settlers  there,  he  said,  had 
been  mostly  “ Pikes”  from  Missouri,  and  they  still 
clung  to  their  old  pro-slavery  (and  therefore  Confed- 
erate) ideas.  In  '61,  many  of  them  had  indeed  favored 
secession,  and  later  in  the  war  when  Price’s  forces  were 
finally  routed  in  Missouri,  hundreds  of  his  soldiers 
deserted  and  made  for  Oregon,  where  they  already  had 
acquaintances  or  friends.  We  had  heard  something  of 
this  before,  and  now  understood  what  was  meant  by  the 
popular  expression — even  at  Salt  Lake — that  “ the  left 


A LIVE  OREGONIAN 


241 


wing  of  Price’s  army  was  encamped”  in  Idaho  and 
Oregon ! Later  in  the  evening,  he  gathered  his  littie 
ones  about  us,  and  would  have  us  talk  about  army 
experiences,  during  the  wTar  and  afterwards,  and  affairs 
East  generally.  In  return,  he  gave  us  his  experiences 
West  and  incidents  of  border-life,  by  the  hour  together. 
Thus  wTe  spun  yarns  by  his  ample  fire-side,  until  the 
“ wee  sma’  hours”  and  after — the  fir-logs  blazing  and 
roaring  welcome  up  his  wide-throated  chimney — wdien 
he  showed  us  to  a cosy  room,  and  an  excellent  bed, 
clean  and  swTeet  beyond  expectation  even. 

During  the  night,  I was  awakened  by  the  rain  patter- 
ing on  the  roof,  just  over  our  heads  ; but  this  soon  ceased, 
and  the  next  morning  we  had  several  inches  of  snow,  with 
huge  flakes  still  falling.  This  was  a bad  outlook  ; nev- 
ertheless, we  decided  to  go  on,  as  it  was  impossible  to  say 
how  long  the  storm  would  last,  or  how  severe  it  would 
become.  We  did  not  want  to  be  “snow-bound  ” there, 
and  besides  we  thought  we  could  reach  “ Crawford’s” 
anyhow,  as  it  was  but  twelve  miles  or  so,  and  that  would 
take  us  well  out  of  the  Mountains.  W e left  “ Meacham’s” 
accordingly  at  7 a.  m.,  with  our  horses  fresh  and  keen 
after  their  night’s  rest,  and  got  along  pretty  well  for  a 
couple  of  miles  or  so,  when  suddenly,  in  drawing  out  of  a 
chuck-hole,  one  of  our  wheels  struck  a stump,  and  “smash” 
went  our  king-bolt.  Down  came  the  ambulance  kerchuck 
in  the  snow  and  mud  ; out  went  the  driver  over  the  dash- 
board a la  bull-frog,  but  still  clinging  to  the  ribbons  ; 
while  L.  and  I sat  wrapped  in  our  great-coats  and  robes  on 
the  back  seat,  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  or  so. 
Here  was  a pretty  predicament,  surely  ! On  top  of  the 
Blue  Mountains,  broken  down  in  a quagmire,  the  snow 
falling  fast,  and  no  house  nearer  than  u Meacham’s  ! ” 
Fortunately,  our  gamey  horses  did  not  frighten  and,  rtm 


242 


A BKEAK-DOWN 


away,  or  we  would  liave  been  infinitely  worse  off.  Tum- 
bling out,  we  presently  ascertained  the  extent  of  our  dam- 
ages, and  all  hands  set  to  work  to  repair  them.  Now  it 
was,  that  our  forethought  at  La  Grande  again  handsome- 
ly vindicated  itself.  With  our  hatchet  we  cut  props  for  the 
ambulance,  and  lifted  it  up  on  these ; and  then  found,  that 
though  part  of  the  king-bolt  was  broken  off  and  the  bal- 
ance badly  bent,  it  could  yet  be  hammered  into  shape 
sufficiently  to  carry  us  forward  again,  with  careful  driv- 
ing. It  took  an  hour  or  more  of  sloppy  and  hard  work, 
before  we  got  the  bolt  back  again  into  its  place  and  every 
thing  “ righted  up and  then,  as  an  additional  precaution, 
with  our  good  rope  we  lashed  the  coupling-pole  fast  to 
our  fore  axle-tree  besides.  Altogether  it  made  a rough 
looking  job,  but  it  appeared  stout  and  strong,  and  we 
decided  to  venture  it  anyhow.  The  rest  of  the  way  out 
of  the  Mountains,  however,  we  proceeded  very  cautious- 
ly. The  snow  continued  to  fall  right  along,  and  con- 
cealed the  bad  places,  so  that  the  roads  were  even 
worse,  than  the  da}7  before,  if  possible.  At  all  extra- 
bad  spots,  or  what  seemed  so,  L.  and  I got  out  and 
walked  ; and  even  when  riding,  we  tried  to  help  the  dri- 
ver keep  the  best  track,  by  a sharp  lookout  ahead  and  on 
either  side.  Our  ambulance,  however,  rolled  and  pitched 
from  quagmire  to  chuck-hole,  like  an  iron-clad  at  sea ; 
and  repeatedly  when  out  walking  I stopped  deliberately, 
just  to  see  how  beautifully  she  would  capsize,  or  else  col- 
lapse in  a general  spill,  like  a “ One-IIorse  Shay ! ” 
All  around  us  was  the  dense  forest : all  about  us,  that 
unnatural  stillness,  that  always  accompanies  falling 
snow  ; no  human  being  near ; no  sound,  but  our  pant- 
ing horses  and  floundering  ambulance  ; no  outlook,  but 
the  line  of  grim  and  steely  sky  above  us.  “ There  she 
goes ! This  time  sure ! See  what  a hole ! ” And  yet 


A FINE  LANDSCAPE 


2±3 


by  some  good  luck,  she  managed  to  twist  and  plunge 
along  through  and  out  of  it  all,  in  spite  of  the  mud  and 
snow;  and  at  last  landed  us  safely  on  the  high  bald  knob, 
that  overlooks  “ Crawford?s,”  and  the  valley  of  the  Uma- 
tilla. We  had  about  ten  miles  of  this  execrable  travel- 
ling, expecting  any  moment  to  upset  or  break  down  ; and 
when  at  last  we  got  fairly  u out  of  the  wilderness,”  it 
was  a great  relief.  We  had  an  ugly  descent  still,  of  two 
miles  or  more,  before  we  reached  the  valley  ; but  this 
was  comparatively  good  going,  being  downhill,  and 
besides  the  snow  above  had  been  only  rain  here. 

The  view  from  this  bald  knob  or  spur,  as  we  de- 
scended, was  really  very  fine.  Just  as  we  rounded  its 
brow  the  clouds  broke  away,  and  the  sun  came  out  for 
awhile  quite  brilliantly.  Far  beneath  us,  vast  plateaus, 
like  those  between  Bear  River  and  Boise  City,  stretched 
away  to  the  Columbia ; and  in  the  distance,  the  whole 
region  looked  like  a great  plain  or  valley.  To  the  north- 
east, we  could  follow  for  miles  the  road  or  trail  to  Walla- 
Walla,  as  it  struck  almost  in  a straight  line  across  the 
plateaus ; to  the  northwest,  we  could  mark  in  the  same 
way  the  route  to  Umatilla.  At  our  feet,  and  far  away 
to  the  west  and  north,  we  could  trace  the  Umatilla  itself, 
as  it  flowed  onward  to  the  Columbia.  Beyond  all  these, 
to  the  north  and  west  still,  a hundred  and  fifty  miles 
away,  sharp  against  the  sky,  stood  the  grand  range  of  the 
Cascade  Mountains,  with  their  kingliest  peaks,  Adams, 
Hood,  St.  Helens,  and  Rainier,  propping  the  very  heavens. 
On  a bright,  clear  day,  this  view  must  be  very  fine ; as 
it  was,  we  caught  but  a glimpse  or  two  of  it,  just  enough 
to  make  us  hunger  for  more,  when  the  clouds  shut  in 
again,  and  we  hastened  on.  How  that  we  were  out  of 
the  forest,  the  wind  blew  strong  and  keen  in  our  faces, 
with  no  fir-trees  to  break  it,  and  for  a half  hour  or  so 


WKLLs’  SPRINGS— 


244 

we  shivered  with  the  cold ; but  it  also  spurred  up  our 
gallant  horses,  and  we  were  soon  whirling  out  of  the 
foot-hills,  at  a rapid  rate.  We  drew  up  at  “ Crawford’s” 
at  1 p.  m.,  and  here  halted  to  lunch  and  to  bait  our  ani- 
mals— well  satisfied,  after  all,  with  our  morning’s  work. 

An  hour  afterwards  we  started  again,  and  now  bowled 
along  famously.  Our  route  lay  down  the  valley  of  the 
Umatilla,  and  as  the  road  was  a little  sandy,  the  rain 
had  made  it  just  good  for  travelling.  L.  and  I,  with  our 
baggage  and  driver,  were  no  load  at  all  for  four  such 
gamey  nags,  especially  over  a descending  grade,  and  soon 
after  dark  we  rolled  into  “Wells’  Springs” — 42  miles 
from  “ Meacham’s.”  Here  we  encountered  a motley 
crowd  of  teamsters,  miners,  and  others,  all  very  rough, 
en  route  to  Idaho  and  Montana.  “ Wells’  Springs”  was 
a shabby  ranch,  and  we  had  no  intention  of  stopping 
there,  but  were  unable  to  go  on — one  of  our  horses 
becoming  suddenly  sick.  The  house  was  dirty,  and  the 
supper  poor  and  badly  cooked;  so  that  we  could  readily  be- 
lieve the  slouchy,  slatternly  landlady,  when  in  the  course 
of  the  meal  she  remarked  to  one  of  her  rough  guests,  “ O, 
we  never  care  for  puttin’  on  style  here  ! Only  for  raal 
substantial  ! ” Supper  over,  there  was  a general  smoke 
and  talk,  and  how  those  rough  fellows  did  talk  ! At 
bedtime,  we  were  put  into  a little  closet,  partitioned  off 
from  the  rest,  while  the  main  crowd  quartered  around 
“ loose”  on  the  floor  outside.  The  last  thing  we  heard, 
two  “ bull-whackers”  were  disputing  as  to  who  I was — 
one  insisting  I was  Gen.  Grant,  and  the  other  contend- 
ing I was  only  Inspector-General  U.  S.  A ! We  soon 
went  heavily  to  sleep ; the  next  morning,  when  I awoke, 
the  same  chaps  were  disputing  still ! 

Next  morning,  our  sick  horse  was  better,  but  still 
not  himself.  We  left  “Wells’  Spring,”  however,  at 


OREGON  INDIAN. 


THE  UMATILLA 


245 


7 a.  m.  on  a walk,  but  soon  achieved  a trot,  and 
were  getting  on  quite  satisfactorily  again,  when  our 
ambulance  struck  a stone  and  smash  went  one  of  the 
rear  springs.  Two  of  its  leaves  showed  old  breaks,  and 
it  was  a mystery  how  it  ever  stood  the  rough  and  tumble 
drive  across  the  Mountains.  Again  our  Le  Grande 
rope  came  into  play,  and  breaking  a box  to  pieces  we 
happened  to  have  along,  we  soon  succeeded  in  splicing  up 
the  spring,  so  as  to  make  it  hold.  An  hour’s  drive  more, 
however,  over  a descending  road,  took  us  into  Umatilla 
without  further  accident,  and  we  hauled  up  at  the  Me- 
tropolitan, at  11  a.  m.  having  come  eighteen  miles. 
We  were  just  too  late  for  the  tri-weekly  boat,  down  the 
Columbia  to  Portland,  which  we  had  been  aiming  at  for 
a week — she  having  left  an  hour  or  so  before.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  our  break-down  in  the  Mountains,  or  for  our 
sick  horse,  we  would  have  made  Umatilla  either  early  in 
the  morning,  or  late  the  night  before,  and  thus  saved  two 
days.  As  it  was,  there  was  no  use  lamenting  it — we  had 
done  our  best — and  besides  a little  time  for  rest  and 
writing  was  not  unwelcome. 

After  emerging  from  the  Blue  Mountains  at  “ Craw- 
ford’s,” our  route  thence  to  the  Columbia  was  chiefly  down 
the  valley  of  the  U matilla.  This  was  not  over  a mile  or  two 
in  width  usually,  with  high  outlying  plateaus,  that  showed 
only  sand,  sage-brush  and  grease-wood,  with  here  and 
there  a rocky  butte.  Population  was  very  scarce,  though 
we  passed  a few  fine  ranches  along  the  Umatilla,  that  looked 
to  be  doing  well,  and  off  on  the  plateaus  we  saw  several 
large  flocks  of  sheep — thousands  in  number — grazing 
under  their  shepherds.  Just  beyond  “ Crawford’s,” 
the  Umatilla  and  Walla-Walla  Indians  have  a Reserva- 
tion twenty  miles  square,  of  the  best  lands  in  the  valle}q 
and  the  government  has  agents  there,  teaching  them  to 


240 


INDIAN  RESERVATION 


farm,  raise  stock,  etc.  Their  farming  did  not  seem  to 
amount  to  much,  hut  their  horses,  cattle,  and  sheep,  by 
the  thousand,  all  looked  well.  Both  of  these  tribes 
together  now  numbered  only  about  a thousand  souls,  and 
were  said  to  be  steadily  decreasing.  We  saw  scores  of 
them  on  the  road,  scurrying  along  on  their  little  ponies — 
all  of  them  peaceable  and  friendly.  They  were  larger 
and  stouter,  than  our  Ute  friends  on  the  Bio  Grande; 
but  did  not  seem  endowed  with  half  their  fierceness  a*nd 
grit.  The  whole  district,  from  Crawford’s  to  the  Columbia, 
lacked  regular  rains  in  summer,  and  hence  farming  to  be 
successful  required  irrigation,  as  much  as  in  Utah.  For 
' this,  the  Umatilla  itself  might  be  made  to  suffice,  a thou- 
sand fold  more  than  it  did.  Draining  a wide  region  of 
country,  it  rushed  with  a rapid  descent  to  the  Columbia, 
and  hereafter  should  be  utilized  not  only  to  irrigate 
largely,  but  also  to  drive  numerous  mills  and  factories, 
that  ought  then  to  throng  its  banks.  Long  before  reaching 
the  Columbia,  it  is  but  little  better  than  a broad  race- 
way; and  for  miles,  as  we  drove  along,  it  seemed  the 
beau-ideal  of  a natural  water-power.  Some  day,  in  the 
not  distant  future,  when  all  that  region  settles  up,  an 
Oregon  Lowell  will  yet  hum  with  spindles  there,  and  its 
woolen-cloths  and  blankets  become  world-renowned. 

It  will  be  seen,  we  were  seven  days  and  a half  in  get- 
ting through  from  Boise  City,  though  expecting  to  make 
it  in  six.  The  stages  advertised  to  make  it  in  three,  but 
the  last  one  had  been  out  five,  with  the  passengers  walking 
much  of  the  way  at  that.  A party  of  Irish  miners  we 
overtook  on  the  road,  footing  it  from  Montana  to  the 
Columbia,  indeed,  raced  with  us  for  several  days,  follow- 
ing us  sharply  into  Le  Grande  and  beating  us  into 
“ Meacham’s ;”  but  after  that,  we  distanced  them.  At 
Umatilla,  people  said,  we  would  have  found  a better  road 


JOHN  WILFUL 


247 


and  made  quicker  time,  if  we  had  come  by  Uniontown, 
instead  of  crossing  the  Mountains  ; but  our  driver  insisted 
“ MeachamV’-was  the  best  road,  and  we  had  been  guided 
of  course  by  his  superior  wisdom. 

This  driver  of  ours,  by  the  way,  was  something  of  a 
character.  xYn  Ohioan,  so  long  ago  as  ’49,  he  had  joined 
the  first  rush  to  California,  and  soon  succeeded  in  picking 
up  $30,000,  or  so.  Thence  he  went  to  Frazer  River,  on 
the  first  wave,  and  in  a few  months  sunk  pretty  much  all 
he  had  previously  made.  Then  he  mounted  a mule,  and 
with  pick-axe  and  wash-pan  “ prospected  ” all  over  the 
Pacific  Coast,  landing  at  last  in  Idaho.  Here  he  had 
again  picked  up  a few  thousands,  and  had  just  concluded 
a freight  contract  with  a mining  company  at  Owyhee,  that 
he  thought  was  going  to  “ pay  big.”  But  it  did  not  com- 
mence until  spring,  and  meanwhile  he  was  trying  his 
hand  at  the  livery  business  in  Boise.  While  on  the 
coast  he  had  lived  in  California,  Nevada,  British  America, 
Washington,  Oregon,  and  now  Idaho;  had  camped  out 
in  the  mining  regions ; shot  grizzlies  in  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vadas ; trapped  beaver  on  the  Columbia;  wandered  with 
the  Indians  for  months  together;  and  “ roughed  it”  gen- 
erally. He  had  but  one  eye — had  lost  the  other,  he  said, 
in  a battle  with  the  Indians,  one  arrow  hitting  him  there, 
and  another  passing  through  his  body  ; yet  he  rode  seven- 
ty miles  afterwards  on  a mule,  supported  by  his  com- 
rades— the  pure  air  of  that  region  and  his  Buckeye  grit 
carrying  him  through.  This  was  his  story,  without  its 
embellishments.  But  he  was  a person  of  fine  Western  im- 
agination ; and  somewhat,  I fear,  addicted  to  u romancing.” 
But,  good-bye,  driver — John  Wilful,  well-named! 
Good-bye,  mustangs  and  donkeys ! Good-bye,  stage- 
coaches and  ambulances  ! Two  thousand  four  hundred 
miles  of  their  drag  and  shake,  of  their  rattle  and  bang, 


248 


GOOD-BYE,  STAGE-COACHING. 


across  the  Plains  and  over  the  Mountains,  had  given  us 
our  till  of  them.  We  had  had  runaways,  we  had  had  break- 
downs, and  about  every  stage  experience,  except  a genuine 
upset,  and  how  we  happened  to  escape  that  wdll  always  re- 
main a mystery.  Our  romance  of  stage-coaching,  I must 
say,  was  long  since  gone.  There  before  us  now*  lay  the 
lordly  Columbia,  with  visions  of  steamboats  and  locomo- 
tives, And  looking  back  on  our  long  jaunt,  with  all  its 
discomforts  and  dangers,  it  seemed  tor  the  moment  as  if 
nothing  could  induce  us  to  take  it  again.  Hereafter,  we 
felt  assured,  we  should  appreciate  the  comfort  and  speed 
of  eastern  travel  more,  and  pray  for  the  hastening  of  all 
our  Pacific  Railroads.  With  a grand  trunk  line  now 
overland,  through  Utah,  it  can  not  be  long  before  a 
branch  will  be  thrown  thence  to  the  Columbia,  substan- 
tially by  the  route  w^e  travelled ; and  when  that  is  done, 
the  ride  from  Salt  Lake  to  Umatilla  will  be  soon  accom- 
plished. The  region  nowhere  presents  any  serious  obsta- 
cle to  a railroad,  except  the  Blue  Mountains;  and  a 
Latrobe,  or  a Dodge,  w7ould  soon  flank  or  conquer  these. 


CHAPTER  XY. 


DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA, 


A ATILLA  was  then  a river  town,  of  two  or  three 


hundred  houses,  mostly  frame.  It  was  still  the 
chief  point  of  departure  from  the  Columbia  for  Idaho 
and  Montana,  though  Wallula — 25  miles  farther  up — was 
beginning  to  compete  for  this.  Trade  and  travel  that 
season  had  not  been  large,  and  the  whole  region  there  com- 
plained of  dullness  and  stringency.  The  Metropolitan 
was  a fair  hotel,  with  a goodly  supply  of  eastern  and  Cali- 
fornia papers,  and  seemed  like  a palace  after  our  long 
“ roughing  it  ” from  the  Missouri  to  the  Columbia.  It 
was  well  patronized,  especially  by  babies ; and  I do  think 
they  were  the  worst  enfans  terribles  I ever  saw.  One 
doting  mamma  asked  L.  if  he  did  not  think  her  red- 
eyed, puffy-faced  youngster  “ a dear  little  cherub  and 
though  he  smiled  approvingly,  of  course,  he  subsequently 
vowed  he  should  think  better  of  King  Herod  hereafter. 
The  town  already  boasted  one  weekly  newspaper,  a public 
school-house,  and  two  young  churches,  with  a goodly 
complement  of  saloons  and  restaurants.  Of  course,  the 
patent-medicine  venders  had  long  since  reached  it.  “ S. 
T.  1860  X.  Drake’s  Plantation  Bitters,”  was  emblazoned 
on  every  dead-wall,  “ in  characters  of  living  light,”  as  it 
had  been  from  Hew  York  there.  The  year  before  I 
had  observed  it  all  through  the  South,  in  over  ten 
thousand  miles  of  travel  there  ; and  here  it  was  again, 


250 


A BOSTON  MICAWBER — 


mysterious  and  blatant,  at  the  head  of  navigation  on  the 
Pacific  Coast.  So,  we  had  found  it  all  through  the 
Pocky  Mountains,  at  Sait  Lake,  and  Boise,  as  inevitable 
as  the  stage-station  and  post-office ; and  the  design  was 
the  same  huge  cabalistic  characters  always.  Another 
advertisement  accompanied  us  regularly  across  the  Plains 
to  the  Pocky  Mountains;  but  “ S.  T.  1860  X.  etc.,”  fol- 
lowed  us  to  the  Columbia  and  beyond,  and  everywhere 
seemed  as  universal  as  the  air — as  omnipresent  as  sunlight. 

Indians  were  seen  on  the  streets  occasionally,  but  they 
were  usually  in  the  last  stages  of  dissipation  and  degrada- 
tion. They  ought  to  be  forbidden  all  such  border  towns, 
as  their  life  there  ends  only  in  ruin.  The  white  popula- 
tion consisted  chiefly  of  Oregonians  and  Californians,  of 
every  shade  of  character.  The  Micawber  type,  of  course, 
was  not  wanting.  One  afternoon,  while  writing  in  my 
room,  a seedy  individual,  whom  we  had  met  at  Wells’ 
Springs,  sauntered  in,  and,  after  some  conversational 
skirmishing,  solicited,  “ the  loan  of  five  dollars.”  He  had 
been  keeping  a “hotel,”  he  said,  up  in  Owyhee,  but  the 
miners  hadn’t  paid  up  their  board-bills,  and  he  was  now 
“ dead-broke,”  on  his  wray  back  to  Puget  Sound.  He 
would  give  his  due-bill,  and  would  certainly  remit  to 
me  at  San  Francisco,  but  really  couldn’t  tell  exactly 
when  ! He  claimed  to  be  “ a son  of  old  Massachusetts, 
sir,”  and  from  Boston  at  that.  But  as  he  was  odorous 
afar  of  “ needle-gun”  whiskey,  the  Hub,  I suspect,  w’ould 
have  haughtily  repudiated  him  ! 

Ding!  Dong!  Puff!  Puff!  The  steamer  had  eome, 
and  Nov.  28th,  we  at  length  embarked  for  down  the 
Columbia.  She  was  a little  stern-wheel  boat,  scarcely 
longer  than  your  finger,  called  Nez  Perce  Chief  \ Capt. 
Stump,  master.  Her  fare  to  Fort  Vancouver  or  Portland, 
including  railroad-portages,  was  $18  in  coin,  which  at 


OREGON  STEAM  NAVIGATION  COMPANY- 


251 


rates  then  current  was  equivalent  to  $25  in  greenbacks. 
Meals  w'ere  extra,  at  a cost  of  $1,50  each,  in  currency, 
besides.  The  distance  to  Portland  was  about  200  miles; 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  100  or  so  more.  We 
found  Capt.  Stump  a very  obliging  Oregonian,  and 
obtained  much  interesting  information  from  him.  His 
boat  wras  part  of  a line  belonging  to  the  Oregon  Steam 
Navigation  Company,  a gigantic  corporation  that  con- 
trolled all  the  navigable  waters  of  the  Columbia,  and 
with  far-reaching  enterprise  was  now  seeking  to  connect 
them  with  the  headwaters  of  the  Missouri.  He  said, 
their  boats  could  ascend  to  Umatilla  all  the  year  round, 
except  in  mid-winter,  when  the  Columbia  sometimes 
froze  over  for  several  weeks  together,  though  not  usually. 
With  good  water,  they  could  go  up  to  Wallula,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Walla- Walla,  25  miles  farther,  which  they 
usually  did  six  months  in  the  year.  With  very  high 
water,  they  could  run  up  to  Lewiston,  at  the  junction  of 
the  Snake  and  Clearwater,  about  175  miles  more,  three 
months  in  the  year — making  about  500  miles  from  the 
sea  in  all.  Above  Lewiston,  there  was  a bad  canon  in 
the  Snake,  with  shoals  and  rapids  for  a hundred  miles  or 
so  to  Farewell  Bend ; but  after  that,  he  thought,  a light- 
draught  steamer  might  get  up  at  least  three  hundred 
miles  farther,  or  within  about  200  miles  of  Salt  Lake,  as 
stated  heretofore. 

Clark’s  Fork  of  the  Columbia,  or  the  Columbia 
proper,  makes  a sharp  bend  north  at  Wallula,  and  for 
300  miles,  he  said,  was  unnavigable,  until  you  reach  Fort 
Colville  near  the  British  line,  when  it  trends  east  and 
south,  until  it  disappears  in  the  far  oft*  wilds  of  Montana. 
Just  above  Fort  Colville,  it  became  navigable  again,  and 
a small  boat  was  then  running  up  to  the  Great  Bend 
region,  over  200  miles  farther,  where  good  placer  mines 


252 


THE  COLUMBIA  AND  ITS  BRANCHES 


had  been  discovered  (Kootenay)  and  worked  a little. 
This  boat  could  connect  with  another,  already  plying  on 
Lake  Pond  Oreille  (a  part  of  Clark’s  Fork),  and  this  with 
still  another  then  building,  that  it  was  believed  with  short 
portages  would  extend  navigation  some  200  miles  more, 
or  into  the  very  heart  of  Montana,  within  two  or  three 
hundred  miles  onlv  of  Fort  Benton — the  head  of  naviga- 
tion  on  the  Missouri.  These  were  weighty  facts,  marrying 
the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic  ; but  Captain  Stump  thought 
the  O.  S.  N.  company  could  accomplish  them,  or  any- 
thing else,  indeed,  it  seriously  undertook.  Just  now  it 
was  bending  its  energies  in  that  direction,  and  he  said 
would  beat  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  yet.  No 
doubt  we  have  a fine  country  up  there,  near  the  British 
America  line,  abounding  in  lakes  and  threaded  with 
rivers,  and  roomy  enough  for  all  enterprises,  whether 
railroad  or  steamboat. 

Puff!  Puff!  And  so  we  wrere  off  down  the  Columbia, 
at  last.  How  exquisitely  pleasant,  how  cosy  and  delight- 
ful, our  little  steamer  seemed,  after  2,400  miles  of  jolting 
and  banging  by  stage-coach  and  ambulance  ! The  state- 
rooms were  clean  and  tidy,  the  meals  well-cooked  and 
excellent,  and  we  vTent  steaming  down  the  Columbia 
without  thought  or  care,  as  on  “summer  seas.”  Occa- 
sionally rapids  appeared,  of  a serious  character ; but  as  a 
rule  the  river  w*as  broad  and  deep,  majestic  in  size  and 
volume.  On  the  banks  w^ere  frequent  Indian  villages, 
wTith  their  hardy  little  ponies  browning  around — appa- 
rently on  nothing  but  sage-brush  and  cobble-stones. 
These  Indians  fancied  spotted  or  “calico”  horses,  as  the 
Oregonians  called  them,  and  very  few  of  their  ponies 
were  of  a single  color.  They  spend  the  summer  mostly 
in  the  Mountains,  making  long  excursions  in  all  direc- 
tions; but  as  winter  approaches,  they  return  to  the 


RAPIDS  OF  THE  COLUMBIA 


253 


Columbia,  and  eke  out  a precarious  subsistence  by  fishing, 
etc.,  till  spring  comes.  Timber  was  scarce,  and  frequently 
we  saw  numbers  of  them  in  canoes,  paddling  up  and 
down  the  river  in  search  of  drift-wood,  for  their  winter’s 
supply  of  fuel.  Past  Owyhee  rapids  and  the  seething 
caldron  of  Hell-Gate,  we  reached  Celilo,  eighty -five  miles 
from  Umatilla,  with  its  long  warehouse  (935  feet),  and 
its  mosquito  fleet  of  five  or  six  pigmy  steamers,  that 
formed  the  up-river  line.  Here  we  disembarked,  and 
took  the  Railroad  around  the  “ chutes  ” or  rapids,  some 
fourteen  miles,  to  still  water  again  below.  The  shrill 
whistle  of  the  locomotive  and  the  rattle  of  the  cars  were 
delightful  sounds,  after  our  long  exile  from  them,  and 
soon  convinced  us  we  were  on  the  right  road  to  civilization 
again.  This  portage  had  formerly  been  made  by  pack- 
mules,  and  then  by  wagons ; but  recently  a railroad  had 
been  constructed,  after  much  hard  blasting  and  costly 
wall-work,  and  now  “ Riding  on  a rail/’  there,  with  the 
Columbia  boiling  and  roaring  at  your  side,  like  the  Rap- 
ids above  Niagara,  was  exhilarating  and  superb.  At  very 
high  water,  these  “ chutes”  or  rapids  somewhat  disappear, 
though  they  still  continue  very  dangerous.  No  attempt 
had  been  made  to  ascend  them  with  a steamer ; but  the 
spring  before,  Capt.  Stump  had  safely  descended  them, 
much  against  his  will.  It  was  high  water  in  the  Colum- 
bia, with  a strong  current,  and  his  boat  drifting  near  the 
rapids  was  suddenly  sucked  in,  before  he  knew  it. 
Clearly,  escape  was  impossible ; so  he  put  on  all  steam, 
to  give  her  steerage- way,  and  then  headed  down  stream — 
neck  or  nothing.  There  was  a good  deal  of  bumping 
and  thumping — it  was  a toss  and  a plunge,  for  awhile — 
and  everybody  he  feared  was  pretty  badly  scared;  but 
his  gallant  little  boat  ran  the  rapids  for  all  that,  and 
reached  still  water  below  safely  at  last.  It  was  a daring 


254 


CELILO  AND  THE  DALLES 


feat,  and  worthy  of  this  brave  Oregonian.  Just  now,  the 
Columbia  was  very  low,  rocks  and  reefs  showing  all 
through  the  rapids — among,  around,  and  over  which  the 
waters  boiled  and  rushed  like  a mill-race. 

The  locomotive  carried  us  to  the  Dalles,  at  the  foot 
of  the  Rapids,  a town  of  some  two  thousand  inhabitants, 
with  a maturer  civilization  than  any  we  had  seen  since 
leaving  Salt  Lake.  It  was  but  five  or  six  years  old  ; yet 
it  wras  already  in  its  decrepitude.  A “ rush”  of  miners  a 
few  years  before,  to  alleged  fine  “ diggings”  near  there, 
had  suddenly  elevated  it  from  an  obscure  landing  into 
quite  a town  ; but  the  mines  did  not  justify  their  prom- 
ise, and  the  Dalles  was  now  at  a stand-still,  if  not  some- 
thing worse.  “ Mining  stock”  and  “ corner  lots”  had 
gone  down  by  the  run,  during  the  past  year  or  two,  and 
her  few  merchants  sat  by  their  doors  watching  for  cus- 
tomers in  vain.  The  enterprise  of  the  town,  however, 
deserved  a better  fate.  At  the  Umatilla  House  they  gave 
us  an  excellent  supper,  at  a moderate  price,  and  the  hotel 
itself  would  have  been  a credit  to  a much  larger  town 
anywhere.  The  mines  on  John  Day  River,  and  other 
dependencies  of  the  Dalles,  had  formerly  yielded  $2,000,- 
000  per  year,  and  Congress  had  then  voted  a U.  S.  Mint 
there.  We  could  but  sincerely  hope  it  would  be  much 
needed,  some  day  or  other. 

Halting  at  the  Dalles  over  night,  the  next  morning 
we  took  the  side-wheel  steamer  Idaho , and  ran  down  to 
Upper  Cascades — some  fifty  miles — through  the  heart  of 
the  Cascade  Mountains.  Here  we  took  the  railroad 
again  for  si'x  miles — to  flank  more  rapids — and  at  Lower 
Cascades  embarked  on  the  W.  G.  Hunt , a large  and  ele- 
gant side-wrheel  steamer,  that  some  years  before  had  come 
“ round  the  Horn,”  from  New  York.  The  Columbia, 
soon  issuing  from  the  Mountains,  now  became  a broad 


THROUGH  THE  CASCADE  MOUNTAINS 


255 


and  majestic  river,  with  good  depth  of  water  to  the  ocean 
all  the  year  round,  and  larger  vessels  even  than  the  W. 
6r.  Runt  might  readily  ascend  to  Lower  Cascades,  if 
necessary.  Our  good  boat,  however,  bore  us  bravely  on 
to  Fort  Vancouver,  amidst  multiplying  signs  of  civiliza- 
tion again  ; and  as  we  landed  there,  we  realized  another 
great  link  of  our  journey  was  over. 

To  return  a little.  Our  sail  down  the  Columbia, 
and  through  the  Cascade  Mountains,  altogether  was  a 
notable  one,  and  surpassed  everything  in  the  way  of  wild 
and  picturesque  river-scenery,  that  we  had  seen  yet. 
Some  have  compared  the  Columbia  to  the  Hudson  ; but 
it  is  the  Hudson  many  times  magnified,  and  infinitely 
finer.  It  is  the  Hudson,  without  its  teeming  travel,  its 
towns  and  villas,  its  civilization  and  culture ; but  with 
many  times  its  grandeur  and  sublimity.  The  noble 
Palisades,  famed  justly  throughout  the  world,  sink  into 
insignificance  before  the  stupendous  walls  of  the  Cascade 
Range,  which  here  duplicate  them  but  on  a far  vaster 
scale,  for  many  miles  together.  Piled  along  the  sky  on 
either  side,  up  two  or  three  thousand  feet,  for  fifty  miles 
at  a stretch,  with  only  a narrow  gorge  between,  the 
Columbia  whirls  and  boils  along  through  this,  in  supreme 
mightiness  and  power;  while  from  the  summit  of  the 
great  walls  little  streams  here  and  there  topple  over,  run 
like  lace  for  a time,  then  break  into  a million  drops,  and 
finally  come  sifting  down  as  mist,  into  the  far  depths 
below.  Some  of  these  tiny  cascades  streaked  the  Cyclo- 
pean walls,  like  threads  of  silver,  from  top  to  bottom. 
Others  seemed  mere  webs  of  gossamer,  and  these  the 
wind  at  times  caught  up  and  swayed  to  and  fro,  like  veils 
fit  for  goddesses.  These  Mountains,  all  through  the  canon 
of  the  Columbia,  abound  with  such  fairy  cascades; 
whence  their  name.  Just  below  Lower  Cascades,  where 


256 


CASTLE-ROCK — 


the  river-bottoms  open  out  a little,  stands  Castle  Rock,  a 
huge  red  boulder  of  comparatively  moderate  dimensions 
at  the  base,  but  seven  hundred  feet  high.  Its  walls  are 
so  perpendicular  they  seem  inaccessible,  and  on  top  it  is 
covered  with  a thick  growth  of  fir- trees.  Its  alleged 
height  appeared  incredible  at  first,  but  on  comparing  it 
with  the  gigantic  firs  at  the  base,  and  those  on  the 
summit,  the  estimate  seemed  not  unreasonable.  All 
along,  the  vast  basaltic  walls  of  the  canon  are  shaped  and 
fashioned  into  domes  and  turrets,  ramparts  and  battle- 
ments ; and  surely  in  point  of  picturesque  grandeur  and 
effect,  the^  Columbia  would  be  hard  to  beat.  We  had 
not  seen  the  Yosemite  yet.  But  already,  we  felt,  the 
Columbia  compensated  us  for  all  our  fatigue  and  danger, 
in  crossing  the  Continent ; and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say, 
that  all  true  lovers  of  the  sublime  and  beautiful  in  nature 
will  yet  wonder  and  worship  here. 

Before  reaching  the  Dalles,  and  afterwards,  we  had 
several  superb  views  of  glorious  Mt.  Hood.  All  good 
Oregonians  claim  Hood  is  the  highest  peak  in  the  United 
States ; but  Californians  boast  their  Shasta  equals,  while 
Whitney  out-tops  it.  A party  of  savans  had  recently 
ascended  Hood,  and  they  reported  the  general  range,  of 
which  Hood  is  a part,  as  4,400  feet  above  the  sea;  above 
which  Hood  still  shot  up  13,000  feet.  The  summit  proved 
to  be  crescent-shaped,  half  a mile  long,  by  from  three  feet 
to  fifty  wide.  The  north  front  was  a precipice,  of  naked 
columnar  rock,  falling  sheer  down — perpendicularly — a 
mile  or  more  at  a jump.  On  the  west  side  was  an 
ancient  crater,  a thousand  feet  in  depth  from  which 
ciouds  of  sulphurous  smoke  still  issued  occasionally.  On 
the  flanks  were  true  glaciers,  with  terminal  and  lateral 
moraines,  the  same  as  among  the  Alps.  Smoke 
about  his  summit,  just  before  we  reached  the  Dalles, 


MOUNT  HOOD. 


MOUNT  HOOD 


257 


heralded  a smart  shock  of  earthquake  there,  and 
no  doubt  he  is  the  safety-valve  of  all  that  region.  We 
had  caught  a glimpse  or  two  of  Mt.  Hood  in  descending 
the  Blue  Mountains,  and  again  from  Umatilla ; but  it 
was  only  for  a moment,  and  usually  with  his  night-cap 
on.  But  in  threading  the  canon  of  the  Columbia,  one 
morning  as  we  rounded  a rocky  bastion,  suddenly,  a hun- 
dred miles  away,  Hood  stood  before  us,  a vast  pyra- 
midal peak,  snow-clad  from  base  to  summit,  resting  in  sol- 
itary grandeur  on  a great  mountain  range — itself  black 
with  firs  and  pines.  From  the  apparent  level  or  slight 
undulation  of  the  general  Cascade  Range,  Hood  quickly 
shoots  up  loftily  into  the  sky,  individual  and  alone,  and 
serene  and  unapproachable  dominates  the  far-stretch- 
ing landscape.  From  all  points  of  view,  whether 
descending  the  Columbia,  where  the  canon  often  frames 
him  in  like  a picture,  or  at  Fort  Vancouver,  where  he 
stands  superb  and  glorious  against  the  sapphire  sky, 
Hood  always  gives  you  the  impression  of  vast  loftiness, 
of  serene  majesty,  of  heaven-kissing  superiority  and 
power,  and  Oregonians  may  well  be  proud  of  him. 
Butman’s  two  pictures  of  Hood  are  both  good,  but  neither 
does  justice  to  his  great  merits.  The  White  Mountains 
and  the  Alleghanies  are  well  enough  in  their  way.  The 
Rocky  Mountains  are  indeed  noble  and*  majestic.  But 
once  see  Hood,  and  all  these  pall  upon  the  mind,  and  he 
alone  rules  the  memory  and  imagination  afterwards.  Up 
the  Columbia  and  down,  off  at  sea,  and  pretty  much  all 
over  Oregon,  Hood  is  a great  and  magnificent  landmark  ; 
and,  of  itself,  is  well  worth  a trip  across  the  continent. 

Fast  the  Cascade  Mountains,  we  came  suddenly  out 
into  a new  region,  and  a totally  different  climate.  From 
Umatilla  to  the  Mountains  we  had  the  same  clear  atmo- 
sphere and  perfect  sky,  that  we  had  found  everywhere 


258 


CHANGE  FROM  DRY  TO  WET 


from  the  Plains  to  the  Columbia,  substantially.  The 
country  naturally  was  the  same  barren  and  sterile  region 
as  at  Salt  Lake,  abounding  only  in  sage-brush  and  grease- 
wood;  and,  indeed,  the  whole  internal  basin  of  the  conti- 
nent, from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Sierra  Nevadas, 
and  from  British  America  down  to  Mexico,  appeared  to 
be  of  this  same  general  character — from  want  of  regular 
rains  in  summer.  Over  most  of  this  vast  region,  there 
had  been  no  rains  for  weeks,  or  indeed  months;  and  for 
days  together  as  we  journeyed  along,  we  had  never  seen 
a cloud  or  mist  even,  to  mar  the  absolute  ultramarine  of 
those  perfect  skies.  But  now,  in  descending  the  Colum- 
bia, as  we  approached  the  Mountains,  we  descried  the 
clouds  on  their  western  slope  ever  trying  to  float  over, 
but  never  apparently  succeeding,  their  white  discs  gleam- 
ing in  the  sun  ; and  when  we  drew  nearer,  we  beheld  a 
fleecy  mist  drifting  up  the  Columbia,  and  streaming 
eastward  like  a pennon.  Nearer  still,  we  encountered  a 
stiff  breeze  sweeping  through  the  canon,  as  through  a 
funnel ; and  when  we  got  well  down  into  the  jaws  of  the 
gorge,  it  needed  all  our  steam,  as  well  as  the  strong  west- 
ward current  to  carry  us  forward.  Sometimes,  it  was 
said,  the  Columbia  just  here  becomes  so  rough,  because 
of  this  conflicting  wind  and  current,  as  to  cause  real  sea- 
sickness on  the  boats,  and  occasionally  indeed  they  have 
to  cast  anchor,  unable  to  descend.  Farther  down,  this 
mist  thickened  into  rain,  and  when  we  got  fairly  through 
and  out  of  the  Mountains,  (it  raining  most  of  the  way),  we 
debouched  into  the  Coast  Region,  where  it  was  still  rain- 
ing steadily,  as  it  had  been  for  many  days,  and  continued 
to  for  vTeeks  together  afterwards.  As  soon  as  wTe  struck 
the  rain,  trees  and  herbage  at  once  made  their  appearance, 
clothing  the  mountains  and  bottoms  every  where  ; lichens 
and  mosses  again  decorated  all  the  rocks;  and  wdien  w’e 


OREGON  RAINS  AND  FOGS — 


259 


got  well  out  of  the  Mountains,  behold  such  forests  of  fir, 
pine,  cedar,  oak,  etc.,  as  never  appear  East.  In  half  a 
day,  you  may  thus  pass  from  a comparatively  rainless  to 
a thoroughly  rainy  region  ; and  in  winter  from  a severely 
cold,  to  a comparatively  moderate  climate-  The  contrast 
is  very  striking,  and  you  soon  feel  it  keenly  in  every 
sense.  Your  eyes  glaze,  your  skin  becomes  moist,  and  if 
there  is  a weak  spot  about  your  lungs,  you  will  find  it 
out  very  quickly.  The  proximity  of  the  Pacific,  of 
course,  explains  it  all — the  warm,  humid  winds  from 
which  sweep  up  against  the  Cascade  Range,  but  find  in 
their  lofty  crest  an  insurmountable  barrier.  If  light 
enough  to  ascend,  their  wealth  of  moisture  is  condensed 
as  rain  or  snow  along  the  mountain  sides  or  summit,  by 
the  cold  of  the  upper  regions,  as  with  your  hand  you 
squeeze  a sponge  ; and,  consequently,  they  topple  over  the 
Range  dry  and  clear — to  curse  a vast  region  beyond  with 
their  sterility.  If  unable  to  ascend,  they  career  along 
the  western  slope  of  the  Mountains,  and  hover  over  the 
Coast  Region  generally,  literally  deluging  Western  Ore- 
gon and  Washington,  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  with 
rains  and  fogs.  The  year  before,  at  Fort  Vancouver, 
they  had  had  one  hundred  and  twenty  consecutive  days 
of  rain,  in  one  year,  without  counting  the  intervening 
showers ; and  they  said,  it  wrasn’t  “ much  of  a year  for  rain” 
either ! Another  year,  they  didn’t  see  the  sun  there  for 
eighty  days  together,  without  reckoning  the  occasional 
fogs.  No  wonder  the  Oregonians  are  called  “ Web-Feet.” 
They  do  say,  the  children  there  are  all  born  web-footed, 
like  ducks  and  geese,  so  as  to  paddle  about,  and  thus  get 
along  well  in  that  amphibious  region.  Perhaps  this  is 
rather  strong,  even  for  Darwinism  ; but  I can  safely 
vouch  for  Oregon’s  all-sufficing  rains  and  fogs,  whatever 
their  effects  on  the  species. 


260 


WEB-F0OTKD  CHILDREN. 


Our  fellow-passengers  down  the  Columbia  were  chiefly 
returning  miners,  going  below  to  winter  and  recruit ; but 
rough  as  they  were  and  merry  at  times,  they  were,  as  a 
rule,  self-respecting  and  orderly.  Our  Fenian  friends, 
who  had  raced  with  us  down  Powder  River  and  Grande 
Ronde  Valleys  and  across  the  Blue  Mountains,  turned 
up  here  again — “ Shanks,”  “ Fatty,”  and  all — and  subse- 
quently embarked  on  the  same  steamer  with  us  at 
Portland  for  San  Francisco.  A few  Chinamen  also  were 
on  board  ; but  they  behaved  civilly,  and  were  treated 
kindly. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


FORT  VANCOUVER  TO  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

FORT  VANCOUVER  is  an  old  Government  Post, 
established  in  1849,  when  Washington  Territory 
was  Still  a part  of  Oregon,  and  all  the  great  region  there 
was  yet  a wilderness.  The  village  of  Vancouver,  a 
parasite  on  its  outskirts,  had  grown  up  gradually ; but 
had  long  since  been  distanced  by  Portland,  across  the 
Columbia  in  Oregon.  A line  plateau,  with  a bold  shore, 
made  the  Post  everything  desirable;  but  back  of  the 
post-grounds,  the  unbroken  forest  was  still  everywhere 
around  it.  It  was  now  Headquarters  of  the  Department 
of  the  Columbia,  and  the  base  for  all  military  operations 
in  that  section.  Here  troops  and  supplies  were  gathered, 
for  all  the  posts  up  the  Columbia  and  its  tributaries ; 
though  Portland,  rather,  seemed  to  be  the  natural  brain 
of  all  that  region.  So,  too,  it  controlled  and  supplied 
the  forts  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  and  the  posts  on 
Puget  Sound ; and,  indeed,  was  of  prime  importance  to 
the  Government  in  many  ways. 

Gen.  Steele,  in  command  of  the  Department,  was  an 
old  Regular  officer,  who  during  the  war  commanded  first 
in  Missouri,  afterwards  around  Vicksburg,  then  in 
Arkansas,  and  always  with  ability.  He  is  now  no  more 
(dying  in  1868),  but  some  things  he  related  in  speaking 
of  the  war  seem  worth  preserving.  He  said,  Gen.  Sher- 
man was  undoubtedly  a great  soldier;  but  he  owed 


262 


SOMETHING  ABOUT  VICKSBURG 


mnch  to  the  rough  schooling  of  his  first  campaigns, 
and  improved  from  year  to  }^ear.  He  said,  Sherman 
in  ’62  was  “ scary  ” about  Price’s  movements  in  Mis- 
souri and  cited  as  an  instance,  that  he  once  ordered 
the  depot  at  Kolia  broken  up  and  the  troops  withdrawn, 
for  fear  Price  would  “ gobble  up”  everybody  and  every- 
thing. He  (Steele)  then  a Colonel,  but  in  command  at 
Kolia,  appealed  to  Gen.  Halleck,  and  was  allowed  to 
remain  ; and  subsequently  Sherman,  with  his  customary 
frankness,  admitted  his  mistake.  So,  he  said,  Sherman 
in  ’63,  when  campaigning  around  Vicksburg,  had  little 
confidence  in  Grant’s  famous  movement  to  the  rear,  via 
Grand  Gulf  and  the  Big  Black,  though  the  results  were 
so  magnificent.  He  said  Sherman  was  somewhere  up 
the  Yazoo,  with  Porter  and  the  gun-boats,  and  from  there 
wrote  him  (Steele),  in  command  of  the  Corps  during 
Sherman’s  absence,  that  the  proposed  movement  was 
perilous,  and  would  probably  fail,  ruining  them  all ; but, 
“nevertheless,”  he  added,  right  loyally,  “We  must  sup- 
port Grant  cordially  and  thoroughly,  dear  Steele,  what- 
ever happens.”  Subsequently,  after  they  had  landed  at 
Grand  Gulf — repulsed  Pemberton  and  hurled  him  back 
on  Vicksburg — cleaned  Joe  Johnston  out  of  Jackson 
and  chased  him  out  of  the  country — and  were  crossing 
the  Big  Black  in  triumph,  the  movement  now  apparently 
a sure  thing,  Sherman  and  he  were  lying  down  to  rest  a 
little,  at  a house  near  the  bridge,  while  the  troops  were 
filing  over.  Presently,  an  orderly  announced  Gen. 
Grant  and  staff  riding  by,  when  Sherman  instantly 
sprang  up,  and  rushing  out  of  the  house  bareheaded 
seized  Grant  by  the  hand,  and  shaking  it  very  warmly  ex- 
claimed, “ I congratulate  you,  General,  with  all  my  heart, 
on  the  success  of  your  movement.  And,  by  heaven, 
sir,  the  movement  is  yours , too ; for  nobody  else  would 


GEN.  STEELE 


263 


endorse  it ! ” He  added,  he  never  heard  of  Sherman’s 
‘-protesting”  against  the  movement,  as  reported  after- 
wards in  the  newspapers,  and  didn’t  believe  he  ever  had 
— u was  too  soldierly,  by  far,  for  that” — but  he  (Steele), 
knew  all  the  facts  at  the  time,  and  the  above  was  about 
the  Truth  of  History. 

Poor  Steele!  He  was  a true  Army  bachelor,  fond  of 
horses  and  dogs,  and  a connoisseur  in  both.  He  was 
besides  a man  of  fine  intelligence,  and  after  dinner  told  a 
camp-story  capitally.  I remember  several  he  told,  with 
great  gusto,  while  we  shared  his  cosy  quarters  at  Van- 
couver ; but  have  not  space  for  them  here.  Afterwards, 
we  met  him  again  in  San  Francisco,  on  leave  of  absence, 
the  beloved  of  all  army  circles,  and  the  favorite  of  society. 
May  he  rest  in  peaee  ! 

But  to  return  to  Fort  Vancouver.  We  spent  several 
days  there  very  pleasantly,  getting  the  bearings  of  things 
from  there  as  a centre,  and  were  loath  to  leave  its  hospi- 
table quarters.  It  was  now  the  first  week  in  December ; 
but  the  grapes  were  still  hanging  on  the  vines  at 
Maj.  N.’s  quarters,  and  all  about  the  post  the  grass  was 
springing  fresh  and  green,  as  in  April  in  the  East. 
We  had  fog  or  rain,  or  both  together,  about  every  day ; 
no  heavy  down-pours,  however,  but  gentle  drizzles,  as  if 
the  Oregon-Washington  sky  was  only  a great  sieve,  with 
perpetual  water  on  ’tother  side.  They  said,  this  was 
their  usual  weather  from  fall  to  spring,  and  then  they 
had  a delightful  summer  ; though  sometimes  occasional 
snow-storms,  sweeping  down  from  the  Mountains  in  Jan- 
uary or  February,  gave  them  a taste  of  winter.  Such 
snows,  however,  were  light,  and  never  lasted  long.  It 
seems,  the  Gulf  Stream  of  the  Pacific,  sweeping  up  from 
the  tropics,  bears  the  isothermal  lines  so  far  north  on  this 
coast,  that  here  at  Fort  Vancouver  in  the  latitude  of 


204 


A MILD  CLIMATE 


Montreal,  they  have  the  climate  of  the  Carolinas  in  win- 
ter, with  little  of  their  excessive  heats  in  summer. 
Walla-Walla,  in  latitude  46°,  boasts  the  range  of  Wash- 
ington, I).  C.  in  39°;  and  San  Francisco,  on  the  line  of 
New  York,  claims  the  climate  of  Savannah.  One  even- 
ing while  there,  after  a day  of  weary  rain,  the  clouds 
suddenly  broke  away,  and  just  at  sunset  we  caught 
another  noble  view  of  Mount  Hood  again.  A thin,  veil- 
like cloud  enrobed  his  feet,  extending  much  of  the 
way  up ; but  above,  his  heaven-kissing  head  rose  right 
regally,  and  his  snowy  crown  became  transfigured 
through  all  the  changes — from  pink  to  purple,  and  into 
night — as  the  day  faded  out.  He  looked  still  loftier 
and  grander,  than  we  had  yet  seen  him,  as  if  piercing 
the  very  sk}T,  and  was  really  superb.  Aye,  superbus. 
Haughty,  imperial,  supremely  proud — which  is  about  what 
the  Romans  meant,  if  I mistake  not. 

A ride  of  six  miles  down  the  Columbia,  on  the  little 
steamer  Fanny  Troup , and  then  twelve  miles  up  the 
Willamette,  landed  us  at  Portland,  Oregon,  the  metrop- 
olis of  all  that  region.  The  distance  from  Fort  Vancou- 
ver, as  the  crow  flies,  is  only  about  six  miles,  but  by 
water  it  is  fully  eighteen,  as  above  stated.  Here  we  found 
a thrifty  busy  town,  of  eight  or  ten  thousand  people,  with 
all  the  eastern  evidences  of  substantial  wealth  and  pros- 
perity. Much  of  the  town  was  well  built,  and  the  rest  was 
rapidly  changing  for  the  better.  Long  rows  of  noble 
warehouses  lined  the  wharves,  many  of  the  stores  were 
large  and  even  elegant,  and  oft’  in  the  suburbs  handsome 
residences  were  already  springing  up,  notwithstanding 
the  abounding  stumps  nearly  everywhere.  The  town 
seemed  unfortunately  located,  the  river-plateau  was  so 
narrow  there  ; but  just  across  the  Willamette  was  East 
Portland,  a growing  suburb,  with  room  plenty  and  to 


PORTLANH 


265 


spare.  A ferry-boat,  plying  constantly,  connected  the 
two  places,  and  made  them  substantially  one.  Portland 
already  boasted  water,  gas,  and  Nicholson  pavements  ; 
and  had  more  of  a solid  air  and  tone,  than  any  city  we 
had  seen  since  leaving  the  Missouri.  The  rich  black  soil, 
on  which  she  stands,  makes  her  streets  in  the  rainy 
season,  as  then,  sloughs  or  quagmires,  unless  macadamised 
or  Nicholsoned ; but  she  was  at  work  on  these,  and 
they  promised  soon  to  he  in  good  condition.  Several 
daily  papers,  two  weekly  religious  ones,  and  a fine 
Mercantile  Library,  all  spoke  well  for  her  intelligence 
and  culture,  while  her  Public  School  buildings  and  her 
Court-House  would  have  been  creditable  anywhere.  TIiq 
New  England  element  was  noticeable  in  many  of  her 
citizens,  and  Sunday  came  here  once  a week,  as  regularly 
as  in  Boston  or  Bangor.  The  Methodists  and  Presby- 
terians both  worshipped  in  goodly  edifices,  and  the 
attendance  at  each  the  Sunday  we  were  there  was  large 
and  respectable. 

Being  the  first  city  of  importance  north  of  San 
Francisco,  and  the  brain  of  our  northwest  coast,  Port- 
land was  full  of  energy  and  vigor,  and  believed  thor- 
oughly in  her  future.  The  great  Oregon  Steam  Naviga- 
tion Company  had  their  headquarters  here,  and  poured 
into  her  lap  all  the  rich  trade  of  the  Columbia  and  its 
far-reaching  tributaries,  that  tap  Idaho,  Montana,  and 
even  British  America  itself.  So,  also,  the  coastwise 
steamers,  from  San  Francisco  up,  all  made  Portland  their 
terminus,  and  added  largely  to  her  commerce.  Back  of 
her  lay  the  valley  of  the  Willamette,  and  the  rich  heart 
of  Oregon  ; and  her  wharves,  indeed,  were  the  gateways 
to  thousands  of  miles  of  territory  and  trade,  in  all  direc- 
tions. Nearer  to  the  Sandwich  Islands  and  China,  by 
several  hundred  miles,  than  California,  she  had  already 
12 


266 


BRAIN  OF  THE  NORTH-WEST 


opened  a brisk  trade  with  both,  and  boasted  that  she 
could  sell  sugars,  teas,  silks,  rice,  etc.,  cheaper  than  San 
Francisco.  Victoria,  the  British  citv  up  on  Puget  Sound, 
had  once  been  a dangerous  rival ; but  Portland  had 
managed  to  beat  her  out  of  sight,  and  claimed  now  she 
would  keep  her  beaten.  It  was  Yankee  Doodle  against 
John  Bull ; and,  of  course,  in  such  a contest,  Victoria 
went  to  the  wall ! 

It  seemed  singular,  however,  that  the  chief  city  of 
the  northwest  coast  should  be  located  there — a hundred 
miles  from  the  sea,  and  even  then  twelve  miles  up  the 
little  Willamette.  Your  first  thought  is,  Portland  has 
•no  right  to  be  at  all,  where  she  now  is.  But,  it  ap- 
pears, she  originally  got  a start,  from  absorbing  and 
controlling  the  large  trade  of  the  Willamette,  and  when 
the  Columbia  was  opened  up  to  navigation  rapidly  grew 
into  importance,  by  her  heavy  dealings  in  flour,  wool, 
cattle,  lumber,  etc.  The  discovery  of  mines  in  Idaho 
and  Montana  greatly  invigorated  her,  and  now  she  had 
got  so  much  ahead,  and  so  much  capital  and  brains  were 
concentrated  here,  that  it  seemed  hard  for  any  new  place 
to  compete  with  her  successfully.*  Moreover,  we  were 
told,  there  are  no  good  locations  for  a town  along  the 
Columbia  from  the  ocean  up  to  the  Willamette,  nor  on 
the  Willamette  up  to  Portland.  Along  the  Columbia, 
from  the  ocean  up,  wooded  hills  and  bluffs  come  quite 
down  to  the  water,  and  the  whole  back  country,  as  a 
rule,  is  still  a wilderness  of  pines  and  firs;  while  the 
Willamette  up  to  Portland,  they  said,  was  apt  to  over- 
flow its  banks  in  high  water.  Hence,  Portland  seemed 
secure  in  her  supremacy,  at  least  for  years  to  come, 
though  no  doubt  at  no  distant  day  a great  city  will  rise 

* Though  since  scourged  severely  by  fire,  (1873),  she  has  vindi 
cated  herself  well  by  prompt  and  general  rebuilding,  like  Chicago. 


TUGET  SOUND — 


267 


on  Puget  Sound,  that  will  dominate  all  that  coast,  up  to 
Sitka  and  down  to  San  Francisco.  From  want  of  time, 
we  failed  to  reach  the  Posts  on  Puget’s  Sound  ; but  all 
accounts  agreed,  that — land-locked  by  Vancouver’s  and 
San  Juan  islands — we  there  have  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  magnificent  harbors  in  the  world.  With  the 
Northern  Pacific  Railroad  linking  it  to  Duluth  and  the 
great  lakes,  commerce  will  yet  seek  its  great  advantages ; 
and  the  Boston,  if  not  the  New  York,  of  the  Pacific  will 
yet  flourish  where  now  are  only  the  wilds  of  Washing- 
ton. The  Sound  already  abounded  in  saw-mills,  and  the 
ship-timber  and  lumber  of  Washington  we  subsequently 
found  famed  in  San  Francisco,  and  throughout  California.  * 
She  was  then  putting  lumber  down  in  San  Francisco, 
cheaper  than  the  Californians  could  bring  it  from  their 
own  foot-hills,  and  her  magnificent  forests  of  fir  and 
pine  promised  yet  to  be  a rare  blessing  to  all  the  Pacific 
Coast. 

The  Portlanders,  of  course,  were  energetic,  go-ahead 
men,  from  all  parts  o’f  the  North,  with  a good  sprinkling 
from  the  South.  Outside  of  Portland,  however,  the  Ore- 
gonians appeared  to  be  largely  from  Missouri,  and  to  have 
retained  many  of  their  old  Missouri  and  so-called  “ con- 
servative” ideas  still.  All  through  our  Territories,  in- 
deed, Missouri  seemed  to  have  been  fruitful  of  emigrants. 
Kentucky,  Indiana,  Illinois,  were  everywhere  well  repre- 
sented; but  Missouri  led,  especially  in  Idaho  and  Oregon. 
This  fact  struck  us  repeatedly,  and  was  well  accounted 
for  by  friend  Meacham’s  remark  (top  of  the  Blue  Moun- 
tains), “ the  left  wing  of  Price’s  army  is  still  encamped 
in  this  region.”  The  tone  of  society,  in  too  many  places, 
seemed  to  be  of  the  Nasby  order,  if  not  worse.  No 
doubt  hundreds  of  deserters  and  draft-sneaks,  from  both 
armies,  had  made  their  way  into  those  distant  regions ; 


268 


OREGONIANS  GENERALLY — 


and  then,  besides,  the  influence  of  our  old  officials,  both 
civil  and  military,  had  long  been  pro-slavery,'  and  this 
still  lingered  among  communities,  whom  the  war  had  not 
touched,  and  among  whom  school-houses  and  churches 
were  still  far  too  few.  Of  course,  we  met  some  right  noble 
and  devoted  Union  men  everywhere,  especially  in  Colo- 
rado ; but  elsewhere,  and  as  a rule,  they  did  not  strike 
us  as  numerous,  nor  as  very  potential.  In  saying  this,  I 
hope  I am  not  doing  the  Territories  injustice ; but  this  is 
how  their  average  public  opinion  impressed  a passing 
traveller,  and  other  tourists  we  met  en  route  remarked  the 
same  thing. 

Here  at  Portland,  John  Chinaman  turned  up  again, 
and  seemed  to  be  behaving  thoroughly  well.  At  Boise, 
we  found  these  heathen  paying  their  stage-fare,  and  rid- 
ing down  to  the  Columbia,  while  many  Caucasians  were 
walking,  and  here  at  Portland  they  appeared  alike  thrifty 
and  prosperous.  Their  advent  here  had  been  compara- 
tively recent,  and  there  was  still  much  prejudice  against 
them,  especially  among  the  lower  classes ; but  they  were 
steadily  winning  their  way  to  public  favor  by  their  sobri- 
ety, their  intelligence  and  thrift,  and  good  conduct  gen- 
erally. Washing  and  ironing,  and  household  service  gen- 
erally, seemed  to  be  their  chief  occupations,  and  nearly 
everybody  gave  them  credit  for  industry  and  integrity. 
Mr.  Arrigoni,  the  proprietor  of  our  hotel  (and  he  was 
one  of  the  rare  men,  who  know  how  to  “ keep  a hotel  ”), 
spoke  highly  of  their  capacity  and  honesty,  and  said  he 
wanted  no  better  servants  anywhere.  One  of  them,  not 
over  twenty-one,  had  a contract  to  do  the  washing  and 
ironing  for  the  Arrigoni  House,  at  a hundred  dollars  per 
month,  and  was  executing  it  with  marked  fidelity.  He 
certainly  did  his  work  well,  judging  by  what  we  saw  of 
the  hotel  linen.  In  walking  about  the  town,  we  occa- 


MTS.  HOOD  AND  ST.  HELENS 


209 


sionally  came  upon  their  signs,  over  the  door  of  some 
humble  dwelling,  as  for  example,  “Ling  & Ching,  Laun- 
dry;” “Hop  Kee,  washing  and  ironing;”  “Ching 
Wing,  shoemaker  ; ” “ Chow  Pooch,  doctor;  ” etc.  As 
far  as  we  could  see,  they  appeared  to  be  intent  only  on 
minding  their  own  business,  and  as  a class  wrere  doing 
more  hearty  honest  work  by  far,  than  most  of  their  big- 
oted defamers.  We  could  not  refrain  from  wishing 
them  well,  they  were  so  sober,  industrious,  and  orderly  ; 
for,  after  all,  are  not  these  the  first  qualities  of  good  citi- 
zenship the  world  over  ? 

We  left  Portland,  Dec.  11th,  on  the  good  steamer 
Oriflamme,  for  San  Francisco.  Fora  wonder,  it  was  a 
calm  clear  day,  with  the  bracing  air  of  our  Octobers  in 
the  east,  and  as  wre  glided  out  of  the  Willamette  into 
the  noble  Columbia,  we  had  a last  superb  view  of  Mts. 
Jefferson,  Hood,  Adams  and  St.  Helens  all  at  the  same 
time.  Sometimes  Painier  also  is  visible  from  here,  but 
ordinarily  only  Hood  and  St.  Helens  appear.  We 
thought  this  the  finest  view  of  these  splendid  snow-peaks 
that  we  had  had  yet,  and  it  seemed  strange  no  artist  had 
yet  attempted  to  group  them  all  in  one  grand  landscape, 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Willamette  as  a stand-point. 
Or,  if  he  could  not  get  them  all  in,  he  might  at  least  com- 
bine Hood  and  St.  Helens.  The  breadth  and  scope, 
the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  such  a picture,  with  the 
Columbia  in  the  foreground,  and  the  great  range  of  the 
Cascade  Mountains  in  the  perspective,  would  make  a 
painting,  that  would  live  forever.  We  watched  them  all, 
with  the  naked  eye  and  through  the  glass,  until  we  were 
far  down  the  Columbia,  and  to  the  last,  Hood  was  the  same 

“ Dread  ambassador  from  earth  to  heaven ! ” 

How  lie  soared  and  towered,  beyond  and  above  every- 


270 


ASTORIA 


thing,  as  if  communing  with  the  Almighty  1 Lofty  as 
were  the  rest,  they  seemed  small  by  his  majestic  side. 
St.  Helens,  however,  though  not  so  imperial,  was  per- 
haps more  simply  and  chastely  beautiful.  An  unbroken 
forest  of  fir,  deep  green  verging  into  black,  girt  her  feet, 
while  above  she  “ swelled  vast  to  heaven,”  a perfect  snow 
sphere  rather  than  cone,  whose  celestial  whiteness  daz- 
zled the  eye.  She  looked  like  a virgin’s  or  a nun’s  white 
breast,  unsullied  by  sin,  and  standing  sharply  out  against 
the  glorious  azure  of  that  December  sky,  seemed  indeed 
a perfect  emblem  of  purhy  and  beauty.  Farther  down  the 
river,  we  detected  a light  smoke  or  vapor,  drifting 
dreamily  away  from  her  summit,  and  Capt.  Conner  of 
the  Orijlamme  said  this  was  not  unusual,  though  St. 
Helens  was  not  rated  as  a volcano.  He  thought  it  steam 
or  vapor,  caused  by  internal  heat  melting  the  snow, 
rather  than  smoke  ; but  the  effect  was  about  the  same. 

We  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  the  same 
evening;  but  Capt.  Conner  thought  it  risky  to  venture 
over  the  bar,  until  morning.  The  next  morning  early, 
we  lifted  anchor,  and  steamed  down  to  Astoria  — a 
higgledy-piggledy  village,  of  only  four  or  five  hundred 
inhabitants  still,  though  begun  long  before  prosperous 
Portland.  Her  anchorage  seemed  fair;  but  ashore  the 
land  abounded  in  a congeries  of  wooded  bluffs  and  ridges, 
that  evidently  made  a town  or  farms  there  difficult,  if  not 
impossible.  A short  street  or  two  of  straggling  houses, 
propped  along  the  hillsides,  was  about  all  there  was  of 
Astoria ; and  yet  she  was  a port  of  entry,  with  a custom- 
house and  full  corps  of  officials,  while  Portland  with  all 
her  enterprise  and  commerce  was  not,  and  could  not  get 
to  be.  What  her  custom-officials  would  have  to  do, 
were  it  not  for  the  business  of  Portland,  it  seemed 
pretty  hard  to  say.  A venture  of  John  Jacob  Astor’s  a 


THE  BAR  OF  THE  COLUMBIA 


271 


half  century  before,  as  a trading  post  with  the  Indians, 
she  had  never  become  of  much  importance,  because 
lacking  a good  back  country ; and  it  appeared,  had  no 
future  now,  because  wanting  a good  town-site.  This 
was  unfortunate  perhaps  for  Oregon,  and  the  whole 
Columbia  region  ; but  over  it  Portland  rejoiced,  and  con- 
tinued to  wax  fat. 

Of  course,  it  had  begun  to  rain  again,  and  by  the 
time  we  had  passed  the  ordeal  of  the  custom-house  at 
Astoria,  the  weather  had  thickened  up  into  a drizzly  fog, 
that  caused  Capt.  C.  much  anxiety — especially,  when  he 
observed  the  barometer  steadily  going  down.  The  bar 
of  the  Columbia,  always  bad,  is  peculiarly  rough  in 
winter,  and  only  the  voyage  before  the  Oriflamme  had 
to  lay  to  here,  nearly  a week,  unable  to  venture  out. 
Her  provisions  became  exhausted,  and  she  had  to  “ clean 
out  ” Astoria,  and  all  the  farm-houses  up  and  down  the 
river  for  miles,  before  she  finally  got  away.  Our 
company  of  four  hundred  passengers  had  no  fancy  for  an 
experience  of  this  sort,  and  “dirty”  as  the  weather 
promised  to  be,  Capt.  C.  at  last  decided  to  try  the  bar, 
even  if  we  had  to  return,  hoping  to  find  better  skies 
when  fairly  afloat  in  blue  water.  Our  engines  once  in  ' 
motion,  we  soon  ran  down  past  Forts  Stevens  and  Cape 
Disappointment,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  on  the 
Oregon  and  Washington  sides  respectively,  with  the  black 
throats  of  their  heavy  cannon  gaping  threateningly  at  us. 
Both  forts  seem  necessary  there,  as  they  completely  com- 
mand the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  and  so  hold  the  kej7 
to  all  that  region.  But  life  in  them  must  be  an  almost 
uninterrupted  series  of  rains  and  fogs,  with  the  surf  for- 
ever thundering  at  your  feet,  and  one  can  but  pity  the 
officers  and  men  really  exiled  there.  Gathered  about 
the  flag-staff  or  lounging  along  the  ramparts,  they  gazed 


272 


SEA-SICKNESS 


wistfully  at  us  as  we  steamed  past ; and  already  in  the 
distance  we  could  see  the  white-caps,  racing  in  over  the 
dreaded  bar.  Heading  for  the  north  channel,  we  put  all 
steam  on,  and  once  out  of  the  jaws  of  the  Columbia  were 
soon  fairly  a-dancing  on  the  bar.  The  wind  and  tide 
both  strong,  were  both  dead  ahead,  which  made  our 
exit  about  as  bad,  as  could  well  be.  The  sea  went 
hissing  by,  or  broke  into  huge  white-caps  all  about 
us.  The  engines  creaked  and  groaned,  and  at  times 
seemed  to  stand  still,  as  if  exhausted  with  the  struggle. 
The  good  ship  Oriflamme  pitched  and  tossed,  battling 
with  the  waves  like  a practiced  pugilist,  yet  ever 
advanced,  though  sometimes  apparently  drifting  shore- 
ward. At  one  period, .indeed,  Capt.  C.  feared  we  would 
have  to  about  ship  and  run  for  the  Columbia — we  pro- 
gressed so  slowly  ; but  something  of  a lull  in  the  wind 
just  then  helped  us  on,  and  at  last  we  saw  by  the  reced- 
ing head-lands,  that  we  were  fairly  over  the  bar  and  out 
into  the  broad  Pacific.  We  congratulated  ourselves  in 
thus  getting  speedily  to  sea ; but  our  tussle  on  the  bar 
had  been  too  much  for  the  majority  of  our  passengers, 
and  soon  our  bulwarks  were  thronged  with  scores  “cast- 
ing up  their  accounts  ” with  Father  Neptune.  Sea-sick- 
ness, that  deathliest  of  all  human  ailments,  had  set  in, 
and  our  “ rough  and  tumble”  with  the  waves  had  been 
so  sharp,  that  many  began  to  sutler  from  it,  who  declared 
they  had  never  been  attacked  before.  A notable  New 
Yorker,  a brawny  son  of  ^Fsculapius  at  that,  bravely 
protested,  that  sea-sickness  was  “ Only  a matter  of  the 
imagination.  Anyone  can  overcome  it.  It  only  requires 
a vigorous  exercise  of  the  will.”  But,  unfortunately  for 
his  theory,  soon  afterwards  he  himself  became  the  sickest 
person  on  board,  not  excepting  the  ladies.  My  own 
experience  ended  with  a qualm  or  two  ; but  the  majority 


• T1IE  VOYAGE  GENERALLY — 


of  our  passengers  suffered  very  much,  for  several  days. 
Our  steamer  really  had  accommodations  for  only  about  one 
hundred  passengers ; but  some  four  hundred  had  crowded 
aboard  of  her  at  Portland,  mostly  miners  eager  to  get 
“ below”  to  winter,  and  those  who  had  no  state-rooms 
now  “ roughed  it  ” pitiably.  They  lay  around  loose — on 
deck,  in  the  pabin,  in  the  gang-way,  everywhere — the 
most  disconsolate-looking  fellows  I ever  saw,  outside  of  a 
yellow-fever  hospital.  The  few  ladies  aboard  were  even 
sicker ; but  these  all  had  state-rooms,  and  kept  them 
mostly  for  the  voyage. 

The  weather  continued  raw  and  the  sea  rough,  most  of 
the  way  down  the  coast,  and  our  voyage  of  eight  hun- 
dred miles  from  Portland  to  San  Francisco,  as  a whole, 
could  hardly  be  called  agreeable.  We  had  fog,  and  rain, 
and  head-winds  all  the  way  down,  and  with  the  exception 
of  a day  or  two,  it  was  really  cold  and  uncomfortable. 
The  steam-heating  apparatus  of  the  vessel  was  out  of 
order,  and  the  only  place  for  us  all  to  warm  was  at  a 
register  in  the  Social  Hall — a narrow  little  cabin  on  deck, 
that  would  not  accommodate  over  thirty  persons  at  the 
farthest.  There  was  a similar  place  for  the  ladies,  but 
they  usually  filled  this  themselves.  Groups  huddled 
here  all  day,  smoking  and  talking,  and  when  the  weather 
permitted  also  swarmed  about  the  smoke-stacks.  And 
then,  besides,  as  already  stated,  our  ship  was  badly 
overcrowded.  Of  our  400  passengers,  less  than  a quar- 
ter had  state-rooms,  and  the  rest  were  left  to  shift  for 
themselves.  After  the  sea-sickness  began  to  abate,  we 
filled  two  or  three  tables  every  meal ; and  when  bed-time 
came,  mattrasses  thronged  the  cabin  from  end  to  end. 
How  it  was  down  in  the  steerage,  where  the  miners  and 
Chinamen  mostly  congregated,  one  need  not  care  to  ima- 
gine. Fortunately  great-coats  and  blankets  abounded,  or 


274 


THE  GOLDEN  GATE 


many  would  have  suffered  much.  We  found  many 
choice  spirits  aboard,  and  in  spite  of  wind  and  weather 
enjoyed  ourselves,  after  all,  very  fairly.  When  it  did  not 
rain  too  hard,  we  walked  the  deck  and  talked  for  hours; 
and  when  everything  else  failed,  we  always  found  some- 
thing of  interest  in  the  gulls  that  followed  us  by  hun- 
dreds, and  the  great  frigate-birds  with  their  outstretched 
pinions,  and  the  ever-rolling  boundless  sea.  Our  table- 
fare  was  always  profuse  and  generally  excellent,  especially 
the  Oregon  apples  and  pears  they  gave  us  for  dessert ; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  our  broken  heating  apparatus, 
no  doubt  we  would  have  got  along  very  satisfactorily 
after  all,  all  things  considered. 

We  arrived  off  the  Golden  Gate,  late  at  night,  Dec. 
14th,  only  four  days  out  from  Portland  ; but  the  sea  was 
still  so  rough,  that  we  feared  to  venture  in.  Next  morning, 
however,  when  the  mist  broke  away  a little,  we  up  steam 
and  headed  again  for  San  Francisco.  We  had  a tough 
time  getting  in,  nearly  as  bad  as  getting  out  of  the  Colum- 
bia. We  had  to  combat  a strong  wind  dead-ahead,  and 
to  wrestle  with  a heavy  sea.  But,  nevertheless,  our  good 
ship  held  on  her  course  bravely ; and  at  last,  weathering 
Point  Reyes,  and  rounding  Fort  Point,  we  steamed  up 
past  frowning  Alcatraz,  and  with  booming  cannon  drop- 
ped anchor  at  the  Company’s  wharf.  The  storm  we  had 
encountered  was  reported  as  one  of  the  worst  known  on 
the  coast  for  }mars,  and  we  were  glad  once  more  to  touch 
terra  jirma,  and  strike  hands  with  a live  civilization.  In 
a half  hour  we  were  ashore  and  at  the  Occidental , a hos- 
telry worthy  of  San  Francisco  or  any  other  city. 

And  so,  wt  had  reached  California  at  last.  All  hail, 
the  Golden  Gate ! And  ’Frisco,  plucky,  vain  young 
metropolis,  hail ! Bragging,  boasting,  giddy  as  you  are, 
there  is  much  excuse  for  you.  Surely,  with  your  mar- 


’FRISCO. 


275 


vellous  growth,  and  far-reaching  schemes,  you  have  a 
right  to  call  yourself  the  New  York  of  the  Pacific  Coast, 
if  that  contents  you 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


SAN  FRANCISCO. 

GEOGRAPHY  demonstrates  the  matchless  position 
of  San  Francisco,  as  metropolis  of  the  Pacific 
coast,  and  assures  her  supremacy  perhaps  forever.  The 
Golden  Gate,  a strait  six  miles  long  by  one  wide,  with 
an  average  depth  of  twenty-four  fathoms — seven  fathoms 
at  the- shallowest  point — is  her  pathway  to  the  Pacific. 
At  her  feet  stretches  her  sheltered  and  peerless  bay. 
fifty  miles  long  by  five  wide,  with  Oakland  as  her 
Brooklyn  just  across  it.  Beyond,  the  Sacramento  and 
the  San  Joaquin  empty  their  floods,  the  drainage  of  the 
Sierra  Hevadas,  and  afford  channels  for  trade  with  much 
of  the  interior.  Her  system  of  bays — San  Pablo,  Sui- 
sun,  and  San  Francisco  proper — contain  a superficial  area 
of  four  hundred  square  miles,  of  which  it  is  estimated, 
eight  feet  in  depth  pour  in  and  out  of  the  Golden  Gate 
every  twenty -four  hours.  On  all  that  coast,  for  thousands 
of  miles,  she  seems  to  be  the  only  really  great  harbor  ; and 
then,  besides,  all  enterprise  and  commerce  have  so  centred 
here,  that  hereafter  it  will  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
wrest  supremacy  from  her.  Until  we  reached  Salt-Lake, 
Hew  York  everywhere  ruled  the  country,  and  all  business 
ideas  turned  that  way  ; but  from  there  on,  the  influence 
of  Gotham  ceased,  and  everything  tended  to  “ ’Frisco,” 
as  many  lovingly  called  her.  This  was  her  general  name, 
indeed,  for  short,  all  over  the  Pacific  coast ; though  the 


HKR  LOCATION — 


277 


Nevadans  spoke  of  her,  as  “ the  Bay”  still.  The  city 
itself  stands  on  a peninsula  of  shifting  dunes  or  sand- 
hills, at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  much  the  same  as  if 
New  York  were  built  at  Sandy  HoOk.  It  was  a great 
mistake,  that  its  founders  did  not  locate  it  at  Benicia,  or 
Vallejo,  or  somewhere  up  that  way,  where  it  would  have 
been  out  of  the  draft  of  the  Golden  Gate,  had  better 
wharfage,  and  been  more  easily  defended.  But,  it  seems, 
when  the  gold  fever  first  broke  out,  in  1SJ9,  the  early 
vessels  all  came  consigned  to  Yerba  Buena,  as  the  little 
hamlet  was  then  called  ; and  as  their  charter-parties  would 
not  allow  them  to  ascend  the  Bay  farther,  their  cargoes 
were  deposited  on  the  nearest  shore,  and  hence  came  San 
Francisco.  It  took  a year  or  more  then  to  hear  from 
New  York  or  London,  and  before  further  advices  were 
received,  so  great  was  the  rush  of  immigrants,  the  town 
was  born  and  the  city  named.  Benicia  tried  to  change 
things  afterwards ; but  ’Frisco  had  got  the  start,  and 
kept  it,  in  spite  of  her  false  location.  Her  military  de- 
fences are  Fort  Point  at  the  mouth  of  the  Golden  Gate, 
Fort  San  Jose  farther  up  the  harbor,  and  Alcatraz  on  an 
island  square  in  the  entrance,  which  with  other  works 
yet  to  be  constructed  would  cross-lire  and  command  all 
the  approaches  by  water,  thus  rendering  the  city  fairly 
impregnable. 

From  the  first,  she  seems  to  have  had  a fight  with 
the  sand-hills,  and  she  was  still  pluckily  maintaining  it. 
She  had  cut  many  of  them  down,  and  hurled  them  into 
the  sea,  to  give  her  a better  frontage.  Her  “ made”  land 
already  extended  out  several  blocks,  and  the  work  was  still 
going  on.  With  a great  penchant  for  right-angles,  as  if 
Philadelphia  was  her  model  city,  she  was  pushing  her 
streets  straight  out,  in  all  directions,  no  matter  what 
obstacles  intervened.  One  would  have  thought,  that 


278 


HER  SAND  HILLS — 


with  an  eye  to  economy,  as  well  as  the  picturesque, 
she  would  have  flanked  some  of  her  sand-hills  by  leading 
her  streets  around  them  ; but  no ! she  marched  straight 
at  and  over  them,  with  marvellous  audacity  and  courage, 
like  the  Old  Guard  at  Waterloo,  or  the  Boys  in  Blue  at 
Chattanooga.  Some  were  inaccessible  to  carriages  ; 
still  she  pushed  straight  on,  and  left  the  inhabitants  to 
clamber  up  to  their  eyrie-like  residences,  as  best  they 
could.  Many  of  these  hills  were  still  shifting  sand,  and 
in  places  lofty  fences  had  been  erected  as  a protection 
against  sand-drifts  ; just  as  our  railroads  East  sometimes 
build  fences,  as  a protection  against  snow-drifts.  The 
sand  seemed  of  the  lightest  and  loosest  character,  and 
when  the  breeze  rose  filled  the  atmosphere  at  all  exposed 
points.  And  yet,  when  properly  irrigated,  it  really 
seemed  to  produce  about  everything  abundantly.  While 
inspecting  one  of  the  harbor  forts,  I saw  a naked  drift 
on  one  side  of  a sand-fence,  and  on  the  other  a flower- 
garden  of  the  most  exquisite  character,  while  just  beyond 
was  a vegetable  and  fruit-garden,  that  would  have  aston- 
ished people  East.  A little  water  had  worked  the  miracle, 
and  this  a faithful  wind-mill  continued  to  pump  up,  from 
time  to  time  as  needed.  Towards  the  south,  the  sand- 
hills seemed  less  of  an  obstruction,  and  thither  the 
city  was  now  drifting  very  rapidly.  Beal-  estate  there 
was  constantly  on  the  rise,  and  houses  were  springing 
up  as  if  by  magic  in  a night.  The  city-front,  heretofore 
much  confined,  was  now  extending  southward  accord- 
ing^. It  was  about  decided  to  build  a sea-wall  of  solid 
granite,  all  along  the  front,  two  miles  or  more  in  length, 
at  a cost  of  from  two  to  three  millions  of  dollars.  This 
expenditure  seemed  large ; but,  it  was  maintained,  was 
not  too  great  for  the  vast  and  growing  commerce  of  the 
city. 


HER  COMMERCE  AND  WEALTH 


279 


But  a few  years  before,  it  was  a common  thing  for 
ships  to  go  East  empty  or  in  ballast,  for  want  of  a return 
cargo;  but  in  1867  San  Francisco  shipped  grain  alone  to 
the  amount  of  thirteen  millions  of  dollars,  and  of  man- 
ufactures about  as  much  more.  Here  are  some  other 
statistics  that  are  worth  one’s  considering.  In  1849, 
then  called  Yerba  Buena,  she  numbered  perhaps  1,000 
souls,  all  told  ; in  1869,  nearly  200,000.  In  1868,  59,000 
passengers  arrived  by  sea,  and  only  25,000  departed, 
leaving  a net  gain  of  34,000.  The  vessels  which  entered 
the  bay  that  year,  numbered  3,300,  and  measured  over 
1,000,000  tons.  She  exported  4,000,000  sacks  of  wheat 
that  year,  and  half  a million  barrels  of  flour.  Her 
total  exports  of  all  kinds  were  estimated  at  not  less  than 
$70,000,000,  and  her  imports  about  the  same.  Her  sales 
of  real-estate  aggregated  $27,000,000,  and  of  mining 
and  other  stocks  $115,000,000,  on  which  she  paid  over 
$5,000,000  of  dividends.  The  cash  value  of  her  real  and 
personal  property  was  estimated  at  $200,000,000.  She 
sent  away  six  tons  of  gold,  and  forty  tons  of  silver  every 
month,  and  in  all  since  1849  had  poured  into  the  coders  of 
the  world  not  less  than  $1,030,000,000.*  Her  net-work 
of  far-reaching  and  gigantic  enterprises  already  embraced 
the  whole  Pacific  Coast,  northward  to  Alaska  and  south- 
ward to  Panama,  while  beyond  she  stretched  out  her  invisi- 
ble arms  to  Japan  and  China,  and  shook  hands  with  the 
Orient. 

One  cloudless  morning,  after  days  of  dismal  drizzle, 
an  enthusiastic  Forty-Hiner  took  me  up  Telegraph  Hill,, 
and  bade  me  “ view  the  landscape  o’er  ! ” I remembered 
when  a school-boy  reading  Dana’s  Two  Years  be- 
fore the  Mast,”  in  which  he  speaks  so  contemptuously 
of  Yerba  Buena,  and  its  Mexican  Hip  Yan  Winkles. 

* See  Appendix. 


280 


THE  VIEW  FROM  TELEGRAPH  HILL 


What  a change  here  since  then  ! Off  to  the  west  rolled  the 
blue  Pacific,  sea  and  sky  meeting  everywhere.  Then 
came  Fort  Point,  with  its  formidable  batteries,  command- 
ing the  Golden  Gate ; and  then  the  old  Presidio,  with 
the  stars  and  stripes  waving  over  it.  Farther  inland 
were  the  stunted  live-oaks  and  gleaming  marbles  of  Lone 
Mountain  Cemetery,  with  the  Broderick  Monument  rising 
over  all.  Then  came  the  live,  busy,  bustling,  pushing  city, 
with  its  quarter  of  a million  of  inhabitants  nearly,  soon  to 
be  a million,  its  wharves  thronged  with  the  ships  of  all 
nations,  but  with  harbor-room  to  spare  sufficient  to  float 
the  navies  of  the  world.  Beyond,  lay  Oakland,  loveliest  of 
subnrbs,  smiling  in  verdure  and  beauty,  with  Mount 
Diabolo  towering  in  the  distance — his  snow-crowned 
summit  flashing  in  the  sunlight.  The  Sacramento  and 
Stockton  boats,  from  the  heart  of  California  were  already 
in.  Past  the  Golden  Gate,  and  up  the  noble  bay,  wdtli 
boom  of  welcoming  cannon,  came  the  Hong  Kong 
steamer  fresh  from  Japan.  The  Panama  steamer,  witli 
her  fires  banked  and  flag  flying,  was  just  ready  to  cast  off. 
While  off  to  the  south,  a long  train  of  cars,  from  down 
the  bay  and  San  Jose,. came  thundering  in.  A hundred 
church  spires  pierced  the  sky  ; the  smoke  from  number- 
less mills  and  factories,  machine-shops  and  foundries, 
drifted  over  the  harbor ; the  horse-car  bells  tinkled  on 
every  side — the  last  proofs  of  American  progress — and 
all  around  us  were  the  din  and  boom  of  Yankee  energy, 
and  thrift,  and  go-ahead-ative-ness,  in  place  of  the  old 
Rip  Yan  Winkleism.  I don’t  wonder,  that  all  good 
Pacific  Coasters  believe  in  San  Francisco,  and  expect  to 
go  there  when  they  die  ! Her  hotels,  her  school-houses, 
her  churches,  her  Bank  of  California,  her  Wells-Fargo 
Express,  her  Mission  Woollen  Mills,  her  lines  of  ocean 
steam-ships,  and  a hundred  other  things,  all  suggestgreat 


HER  CLIMATE  GENERALLY 


281 


wealth  and  brains ; and  yet  they  are  only  the  first  fruits 
of  nobler  fortune  yet  to  come.  She  is  what  Carlyle 
might  call  an  undeniable  fact,  a substantial  verity ; and, 
in  spite  of  her  “ heavy  job  of  work,”  moves  onward  to 
empire  with  giant  strides.  She  contained  already  fully 
a third  of  the  population  of  the  whole  state  of  California, 
and  was  “ lifting  herself  up  like  a young  lion  ” in  all 
enterprises — at  all  times  and  everywhere — on  the  Pacific 
slope. 

Her  faulty  location,  however,  gives  her  a climate, 
that  can  scarcely  be  called  inviting,  notwithstanding  all 
that  Californians  claim  for  their  climate  generally.  It  is 
true,  the  range  of  the  thermometer  there  indicates  but  a 
moderate  variation  of  temperature,  with  neither  snow 
nor  frost,  usually.  But  her  continual  rains  in  winter, 
and  cold  winds  and  fogs  in  summer,  must  be  very  trying 
to  average  nerves  and  lungs.  We  found  it  raining  on 
our  arrival  there  in  December,  with  the  hills  surround- 
ing the  bay  already  turning  green  ; and  it  continued  to  rain 
and  drizzle  right  along,  pretty  much  all  the  time,  until 
we  departed  for  Arizona  in  February.  Sometimes  it 
would  break  away  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  the  sun  would 
come  out  resplendently,  as  if  meaning  to  shine  forever ; 
and  then,  suddenly,  it  would  cloud  over,  and  begin  to 
drizzle  and  rain  again,  as  if  the  whole  heavens  were 
only  a gigantic  sieve.  Really,  it  did  rain  there  some- 
times the  easiest  of  any  place  I ever  saw — not  excepting 
Fort  Vancouver.  Going  out  to  drive,  or  on  business, 
we  got  caught  thus  several  times,  and  learned  the  wis- 
dom of  carrying  stout  umbrellas,  or  else  wearing  bang- 
up  hats  and  water-proof  coats,  like  true  Californians. 
Once,  for  a fortnight  nearly,  it  rained  in  torrents,  with 
but  little  intermission,  and  then  thtf  whole  interior 
became  flooded — bridges  were  washed  away,  roads  sub- 


2S2 


WINTER  RAINS  AND  SUMMER  WINDS  — 


merged,  etc.  In  the  midst  of  this,  one  night,  we  had  a 
sharp  passage  of  thunder  and  lightning — a phenomenon 
of  rare  occurrence  on  that  coast — followed  by  a slight 
earthquake,  and  then  it  rained  harder  than  ever.  But 
at  last,  the  winter  rains  came  to  an  end,  as  all  things 
must,  and  then  we  had  indeed  some  superb  weather, 
worthy  of  Italy  or  Paradise.  Californians  vowed  their 
winter  had  been  an  unusual  one;  that  their  January  was 
usually  good,  and  their  February  very  fine ; but,  of 
course,  things  must  be  reported  as  we  found  them.  As 
a rule,  nobody  seemed  to  mind  the  perpetual  drizzle,  so 
to  speak  ; but  with  slouched  hats  and  light  overcoats,  or 
infrequent  umbrellas,  everybody  tramped  the  streets,  as 
business  or  pleasure  called,  and  the  general  health  of  the 
city  continued  good.  The  few  fair  days  we  had  in  Jan- 
uary and  early  February  were  as  soft  and  balmy,  as  our 
May  or  June,  and  all  ’Frisco  made  the  most  of  them. 
The  ladies  literally  swarmed  along  Montgomery  street, 
resplendent  in  silks  and  jewelry,  and  all  the  drives  about 
the  city — especially  the  favorite  one  to  the  Cliff-House 
and  sea-lions — were  thronged  with  coaches  and  buggies. 
Meanwhile,  the  islands  in  the  harbor  and  the  surround- 
ing hills  and  country,  so  dead  and  barren  but  a few 
weeks  before,  had  now  become  superbly  green,  and  the 
whole  bay  and  city  lay  embosomed  in  emerald. 

We  left  there  the  middle  of  February  for  Arizona,  and 
did  not  get  back  until  late  in  May.  Then,  when  we  returned 
we  found  the  rains  long  gone,  the  vegetation  fast  turning  to 
yellow — grain  ripening  in  the  fields — strawberries  and 
peas  on  the  table — and  the  summer  winds  and  fogs  in 
full  vogue.  At  sunrise,  it  would  be  hot,  even  sultry,  and 
you  would  see  persons  dressed  in  white  linen.  By  nine 
or  ten  a.  m , the*  wind  would  rise — a raw  damp  wind, 
sometimes  with  fog,  sweeping  in  from  the  Pacific — and 


HER  EARTHQUAKES 


283 


in  the  evening,  you  would  see  ladies  going  to  the  Opera 
with  full  winter  furs  on.  How  long  this  lasted,  I cannot 
say ; but  this  was  the  weather  we  experienced,  as  a rule, 
late  in  May  and  early  in  June.  Heavy  great-coats, 
doubtless,  are  never  necessary  there.  And  so,  on  the 
other  hand,  thin  clothing  is  seldom  wanted.  Many  in- 
deed said,  they  wore  the  same  clothing  all  seasons  of  the 
year,  and  seldom  found  it  uncomfortable  either  way. 
The  truth  seemed  to  be,  that  for  hardy  persons  the 
climate  was  excellent — the  air  bracing  and  stimulating — 
but  invalids  were  better  off  in  the  interior.  Consump- 
tives could  not  stand  the  winds  and  fogs  at  all ; and  it  was 
a mooted  question,  as  to  whether  the  large  percentage  of 
suicides  just  then,  was  not  due  in  part  to  climatic  influen- 
ces. The  really  healthy,  however,  appeared  plump  and 
rosy,  and  the  growing  children  promised  well  for  the 
future.  Had  ’Frisco  been  built  at  Benicia,  or  about  there, 
she  would  have  escaped  much  of  her  climatic  misery. 
Even  across  the  bay,  at  Oakland,  they  have  a much 
smoother  climate.  But  she  vwuld  “ squat'’  on  a sand- 
spit,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Golden  Gate,  where  there  is  a 
perpetual  suck  of  wind  and  fog — from  the  ocean,  into 
the  bay,  and  up  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento — and  now 
must  make  the  most  of  her  situation. 

Montgomery  Street  is  the  Broadway  or  Chestnut 
Street  of  San  Francisco,  and  California  her  Wall  Street. 
Her  hotels,  shops,  and  banking-houses  are  chiefly  here, 
and  many  of  them  are  very  handsome  edifices.  The 
Occidental,  Cosmopolitan,  and  Lick-House  hotels,  the  new 
Mercantile  Library,  and  Bank  of  California,  are  stately 
structures,  that  would  do  credit  to  any  city.  Their 
height,  four  and  five  stories,  seemed  a little  reckless,  con- 
sidering the  liability  of  the  Coast  to  earthquakes  ; but  the 
people  made  light  of  this,  notwithstanding  some  of  their 


284 


HER  HOUSES  AND  GARDENS — 


best  buildings  showed  ominous  cracks  u from  turret  to 
foundation  stone.”  So  long  as  they  stood,  everything 
was  believed  secure ; and  commerce  surged  and  roared 
along  the  streets,  as  in  New  York  and  London.  Brick, 
well  strengthened  by  iron,  seemed  to  be  the  chief  build- 
ing material  in  the  business  parts  of  the  city,  though 
stone  was  coming  into  use,  obtained  from  an  excellent 
quarry  on  Angel  Island.  The  Bank  of  California  had 
been  constructed  of  this,  and  was  much  admired  by 
everybody.  The  private  residences,  however,  seemed 
chiefly  frame,  and  were  seldom  more  than  two  and  a half 
stories  high.  Doubtless  more  heed  is  given  to  earth- 
quakes here,  though  your  true  Californian  would  be  slowr 
to  acknowledge  this.  Nevertheless,  deep  down  in  his 
heart — at  “ bed-rock,”  as  he  would  say — his  household 
gods  are  esteemed  of  more  importance,  than  his  com- 
mercial commodities.  In  the  suburbs,  Mansard  roofs 
were  fast  coming  into  vogue,  and  everywhere  there  was  a 
general  breaking  out  of  Bay-Window.  Brown  seemed 
to  be  the  favorite  color,  doubtless  to  offset  the  summer 
sand-storms,  and  the  general  prevalence  of  bay-windows 
may  also  be  due  partly  to  these.  Convenience  and  com- 
fort— often  elegance  and  luxury — appeared  everywhere, 
and  to  an  extent  that  was  surprising,  for  a city  so  young 
and  raw.  Shade-trees  were  still  rare,  because  only  the 
native  scrubby  live-oaks,  with  deep  penetrating  roots, 
can  survive  the  long  and  dry  summers  there.  But 
shrubbery  and  flowers,  prompted  by  plentiful  irrigation, 
appeared  on  every  side,  and  the  air  was  always  redolent  of 
perfume.  The  most  unpretending  homes  had  their  gems 
of  flower-gardens,  with  evergreens,  fuchsias,  geraniums, 
pansies,  and  the  variety  and  richness  of  their  roses  were 
a perpetual  delight.  A rill  of  water,  with  trickling  side 
streams,  made  the  barren  sand-hills  laugh  with  verdure 


REPRESENTATIVE  CALIFORNIANS 


285 


and  beauty,  and  gaunt  wind-mills  in  every  back-yard 
kept  up  the  supply.  The  wind-mill  in  California  rises 
to  the  dignity  of  an  institution,  and  is  a godsend  to 
the  whole  coast.  In  winter,  of  course,  they  are  not 
needed.  But  throughout  the  long  and  rainless  summer, 
when  vegetation  withers  up  and  blows  away,  the  steady 
sea-breeze  keeps  the  wind-mills  going,  and  these  pump 
up  water  for  a thousand  irrigating  purposes.  The  vege- 
table gardens  about  the  city,  and  California  farmers  gen- 
erally, all  patronize  them,  more  or  less,  and  thus  grow 
fruits  and  vegetables  of  exquisite  character,  and  almost 
every  variety,  the  year  round.  The  markets  and  fruit- 
stands  of  San  Francisco,  groaning  with  apples,  pears, 
peaches,  plums,  pomegranates,  oranges,  grapes,  straw- 
berries, etc.,  have  already  become  world-renowned,  and 
the  Pacific  Railroad  now  places  them  at  our  very  doors. 

Montgomery  street  repeats  Broadway  in  all  but  its 
vista,  but  with  something  more  perhaps  of  energy  and 
dash.  The  representative  New  Yorker  always  has  a trace 
of  conservatism  somewhere ; but  your  true  Californian 
laughs  at  precedent,  and  is  embodied  go-ahead-ativeness. 
In  costume,  he  is  careless,  not  to  say  reckless,  insisting 
on  comfort  at  all  hazards,  and  running  greatly  to  pockets. 
Stove-pipe  hats  are  an  abomination  to  him,  and  tight 
trowsers  nowhere ; but  beneath  his  slouch-hat  are  a keen 
eye  and  nose,  and  his  powers  of  locomotion  are  something 
prodigious.  Cleaner-cut,  more  wide-awake,  and  energetic 
faces  are  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Few  aged  men  appear,  but 
most  average  from  twenty-five  to  forty  years.  Resolute, 
alert,  jaunty,  bankrupt  perhaps  to-day,  but  to-morrow 
picking  their  flints  and  trying  it  again,  such  men  mean 
business  in  all  they  undertake,  and  carry  enterprise  and 
empire  in  the  palms  of  their  hands.  The  proportion  of 
ladies  on  Montgomery  street,  however,  usually  seemed 


286 


JEWISH  SYNAGOGUE 


small,  and  the  quality  inferior  to  that  of  the  sterner  sex. 
Given  to  jewelry  and  loud  colors,  and  still  louder  man- 
ners, there  was  a fastness  about  them,  that  jarred  upon 
one’s  Eastern  sense,  though  some  noble  specimens  of 
womanhood  now  and  then  appeared.  Doubtless,  the 
hotel  and  apartment-life  of  so  many  San  Franciscans  had 
something  to  do  with  this,  as  it  is  fatal  to  the  more 
modest  and  domestic  virtues ; but  it  must  be  doubted, 
whether  this  will  account  for  it  entirely.  Evidently, 
California  is  still  “ short  ” of  women,  at  least  of  the 
worthier  kind,  and  until  she  completes  her  supply  will 
continue  to  over-estimate  and  spoil  what  she  has.  At 
least,  this  is  the  impression  her  Montgomery  street  dames 
make  upon  a stranger,  and  unfortunately  there  is  much 
elsewhere  to  confirm  it. 

Respect,  for  the  Sabbath  seemed  to  be  a growing  virtue, 
but  there  was  still  room  for  much  improvement.  Many 
of  the  stores  and  shops  on  Montgomery  and  Kearney 
streets  were  open  on  Sunday,  the  same  as  other  days ; 
and  it  seemed  to  be  the  favorite  day  for  pic-nics  and 
excursions,  to  Oakland  and  San  Mateo.  Processions,  wfitli 
bands  of  music,  were  not  infrequent,  and  at  Hayes’  Park 
in  the  Southern  suburbs  the  whole  Teuton  element 
seemed  to  concentrate  on  that  day,  for  a general  saturna- 
lia. On  the  other  hand,  there  was  a goodly  array  of  well- 
filled  churches,  and  their  pastors  preached  with  much 
fervency  and  power.  The  Jewish  Synagogue  is  a mag- 
nificent structure,  one  of  the  finest  in  America,  and 
deserves  more  than  a passing  notice.  It  is  on  Sutter 
street,  in  a fine  location  overlooking  the  city,  and  cost 
nearly  half  a million  of  dollars.  The  gilding  and  deco- 
ration generally  inside,  viewed  from  the  organ-loft,  are 
superb.  But  few  of  the  large  choir  were  JewTs,  and 
scarcely  any  could  read  the  old  Hebrew  songs  and  chants 


OTHER  DENOMINATIONS. 


28T 


in  the  original ; so  these  were  printed  in  English,  as 
the  Hebrew  sounds , and  thus  they  maintained  the  ancient 
custom  of  singing  and  chanting  only  in  Hebrew  ! Their 
music,  nevertheless,  was  grand  and  inspiring,  and  it 
would  be  well  for  our  Gentile  churches,  to  emulate  it. 
This  was  called  the  Progressive  Synagogue.  The  con- 
gregation had  recently  shortened  the  ancient  service  from 
three  hours  to  an  hour  and  a half,  by  leaving  out  some  of 
the  long  prayers — “vain  repetitions,”  it  is  presumed — 
and  the  consequence  was,  a split  in  this  most  conserva- 
tive of  churches.  The  good  old  conservative  brethren, 
of  course,  could  not  stand  the  abbreviation.  They  were 
fully  persuaded,  they  could  never  get  to  Paradise,  with 
only  an  hour  and  a half ’s  service.  So,  they  seceded,  and 
set  up  for  themselves.  Yery  prosperous  and  wealthy  are 
the  Jews  of  San  Francisco ; and,  indeed,  all  over  the  Pacific 
Coast,  our  Hebrew  friends  enjoy  a degree  of  respectabil- 
ity, that  few  attain  East.  They  number  in  their  ranks 
many  of  the  leading  bankers,  merchants,  lawyers,  etc.,  of 
San  Francisco ; and  more  than  one  of  them  sits  upon  the 
Bench,  gracing  his  seat.  Poor  Thomas  Starr  King’s 
church  is  a model  in  its  way,  and  the  congregation  that 
assembles  there  one  of  the  most  cultivated  and  refined 
on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Their  pastor,  Dr.  Stebbins,  though 
not  equal  to  his  great  predecessor,  in  some  respects,  is  a 
man  of  marked  thought  and  eloquence ; and,  by  his  broad 
Christian  charity,  was  doing  a noble  work  in  San  Fran- 
cisco. So,  Dr.  Stone,  formerly  of  Boston,  was  preaching 
to  large  audiences,  and  declaring  “ the  whole  counsel  of 
God,”  without  fear  or  favor.  His  church  is  plain  but 
large  and  commodious,  and  was  always  thronged  with 
attentive  worshippers.  Dr.  Wadsworth,  lately  of  Phila- 
delphia, was  not  attracting  the  attention  he  did  East ; but 
his  church  was  usually  well-filled,  and  he  was  exerting 


288 


THINGS  IMPKOVING  KELIGIOUSLY. 


an  influence  and  power  for  good  much  needed.  The 
Methodists,  our  modern  ecclesiastical  sharp-shooters,  did 
not  seem  as  live  and  aggressive,  as  they  usually  do  else- 
where ; but  we  were  told  they  were  a great  and  growing 
power  on  the  Coast,  for  all  that,  and  everybody  bade 
them  God  speed.  The  Episcopalians,  as  a rule,  I regret 
to  say,  appeared  to  make  but  little  impression,  and  were 
perhaps  unfortunate  in  their  chief  official.  The  Catholics, 
embracing  most  of  the  old  Spanish  population  and  much 
of  the  foreign  element,  were  vigorous  and  aggressive,  and 
made  no  concealment  of  the  fact,  that  they  were  aiming 
at  supremacy.  In  this  cosmopolitan  city,  the  Chinese, 
too,  have  their  Temples,  or  Josh-Houses;  but  they  were 
much  neglected,  and  John  Chinaman,  indeed,  religious- 
ly considered,  seemed  well  on  the  road  to  philosophic 
indifference. 

During  the  past  decade,  however,  things  on  the 
whole  had  greatly  improved,  morally  and  religiously,  as 
the  population  had  become  more  fixed  and  settled  ; and 
all  were  hoping  for  a still  greater  improvement,  with  the 
completion  of  the  Railroad,  and  the  resumption  of  old 
family  ties  East.  The  drinking-saloons  were  being  more* 
carefully  regulated.  The  gambling-hells,  no  longer  per- 
mitted openly,  w^ere  being  more  and  more  driven  into 
obscurity  and  secrecy.  Law  and  order  were  more  rigidly 
enforced.  The  vigilance  committees  of  former  years  still 
exerted  their  beneficent  example.  The  Alta , Bulletin , 
and  Times , then  the  three  great  papers  of  the  city  and 
Coast,  all  noble  journals,  wrere  all  open  and  pronounced 
in  behalf  of  good  morals  and  wholesome  government ; and 
it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  the  prospect  for  the  future 
was  certainly  very  gratifying,  not  to  say  cheering. 
“ Forty-Niners,”  (Bret  Ilarte’s  Argonauts)  and  other  early 
comers,  declared  themselves  amazed,  that  they  were  get- 


IRON-CLAD  CHRISTIANS. 


289 


ting  on,  as  well  as  they  did.  “ Yes,”  said  one  of  the 
best  of  them,  a man  of  great  shrewdness  and  ability,  “I 
grant,  we  Californians  have  been  pretty  rough  customers, 
and  have  not  as  many  religious  people  among  us  yet,  as 
we  ought  to  have ; but  then,  what  we  have  are  iron-clad , 
you  bet ! ” I suspect  that  is  about  so.  A man,  who  is 
really  religious  in  California,  will  likely  be  so  anywhere. 
The  severity  of  his  temptations,  if  he  resist  them,  will 
make  him  invulnerable  ; and  all  the  “ fiery  darts  of  the 
wicked  one,”  elsewhere,  will  fall  harmless  at  his  feet. 
Faithful  Monitors  are  they,  battling  for  Jesus;  and  in  the 
end,  we  know,  will  come  off  more  than  conquerors.  With 
all  our  hearts,  let  us  bid  them  God  speed  ! 

13 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


san  francisco  (continued). 

HERE  in  San  Francisco,  our  National  greenbacks 
were  no  longer  a legal  tender,  but  everything  was 
on  a coin  basis.  Just  as  in  New  York,  you  sell  gold  and 
buy  greenbacks,  if  you  want  a convenient  medium  of 
exchange,  so  here  we  bad  to  sell  greenbacks  and  buy  gold. 
A dime  was  the  smallest  coin,  and  “ two  bits”  (twenty- 
five  cents)  the  usual  gratuity.  A newspaper  cost  a dime, 
or  two  for  twenty-five  cents — the  change  never  being 
returned.  Fruits  and  vegetables  were  cheap,  but  dry- 
goods,  groceries,  clothing,  books,  etc.,  about  the  same  in 
gold,  as  East  in  greenbacks.  The  general  cost  of  living, 
therefore,  seemed  to  be  about  the  same  as  in  New  York, 
plus  the  premium  on  gold.  California  and  the  Pacific 
slope  generally  had  refused  to  adopt  the  National 
currency,  and  it  was  still  a mooted  question  whether  they 
had  lost  or  gained  by  this.  At  first,  they  thought  it  a 
great  gain  to  be  rid  of  our  paper  dollars;  but  public 
opinion  had  changed  greatly,  and  many  were  getting  to 
think  they  had  made  a huge  mistake,  in  not  originally 
acquiescing  in  the  national  necessity.  The  prosperity  of 
the  East  during  the  war,  and  the  pending  sluggishness 
of  trade  on  the  Coast  (still  continuing),  were  much  com- 
mented on,  as  connected  with  this  question  of  Coin  vs. 
Greenbacks ; but  it  was  thought  too  late  to  remedy  the 
matter  now.  This  hostility  to  our  Greenbacks  did  not 


COIN  VS.  GREENBACKS — 


291 


seem  to  arise  from  a want  of  patriotism,  so  much  as  from 
a difference  of  opinion,  as  to  the  necessity  or  propriety 
of  their  using  a paper  currency,  when  they  had  all  the 
gold  and  silver  they  wanted,  and  were  exporting  a surplus 
by  every  steamer.  If  there  was  a speck  of  Secession 
there  at  first,  California  afterwards  behaved  very  nobly, 
especially  when  she  came  with  her  bullion  by  the  many 
thousands  to  the  rescue  of  the  Sanitary  Commission  ; and 
Starr  King’s  memory  was  still  treasured  everywhere,  as 
that  of  a martyr  for  the  Union.  The  oncoming  Pacific 
Pail  road  was  constantly  spoken  of,  as  a new  4Cbond  of 
union,”  to  link  the  Coast  to  the  Atlantic  States  as  with 
“ hooks  of  steel and,  evidently,  nothing  (unless  it  may 
be  the  Chinese  Question)  can  disturb  the  repose  of  the 
Pepublic  there,  for  long  years  to  come.  The  people 
almost  universally  spoke  lovingly  and  tenderly  of  the 
East,  as  their  old  “ home,”  and  thousands  were  awaiting 
the  completion  of  the  Pail  road  to  go  thither  once  again. 

Their  great  passion,  however,  just  then,  was  for 
territorial  aggrandizement.  Mr.  Seward  had  just  an- 
nounced his  purchase  of  Alaska,  and  of  course,  every- 
body was  delighted,  as  they  would  have  been  if  he  had 
bought  the  Korth  Pole,  or  even  the  tip  end  of  it.  Next 
they  wanted  British  Columbia  and  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
and  hoped  before  long  also  to  possess  Mexico  and  dowu 
to  the  Isthmus.  The  Sitka  Ice  Company,  which  for 
some  years  had  supplied  San  Francisco  and  the  Coast 
with  their  only  good  ice,  was  proof  positive,  that  there 
was  cold  weather  sometimes  in  Alaska ; nevertheless, 
they  claimed,  the  Sage  of  Auburn  had  certainly  shown 
himself  to  be  a great  statesman,  by  going  into  this  Peal 
Estate  business,  however  hyperborean  the  climate.  It 
was  soon  alleged  to  be  a region  of  fair  fields  and  dimpled 
meadows,  of  luscious  fruits  and  smiling  flowers,  of 


292 


ALASKA CHRISTMAS  AND  NEW  YEAR 


magnificent  forests  and  inexhaustible  mines,  as  well  as 
of  icebergs  and  walrusses ; and  straightway  a steamer 
cleared  for  Sitka,  with  a full  complement  of  passengers, 
expecting  to  locate  a “city*”  there  and  sell  “corner  lots,” 
start  a Mining  Company  and  “ water”  stock,  or  initiate 
some  other  California  enterprise. 

Christmas  and  New  Year  in  San  Francisco  were 
observed  very  generally,  and  with  even  more  spirit  than 
in  the  East.  The  shops  and  stores  had  been  groaning 
with  gifts  and  good  things  for  some  time,  and  on  Christ- 
mas Eve  the  whole  city  seems  to  pour  itself  into  Montgom- 
ery street.  Early  in  the  evening,  there  was  a scattering 
tooting  of  trumpets,  chiefly  by  boys ; but  along  toward 
midnight,  a great  procession  of  men  and  boys  drifted  to- 
gether, and  traversing  Montgomery,  Kearney,  and  adja- 
cent streets,  made  the  night  hideous  with  every  kind  of 
horn,  from  a dime  trumpet  to  a trombone.  New  Year 
was  ushered  in  much  the  same  way,  though  not  quite  so 
elaborately.  On  both  of  these  winter  holidays  there  hap- 
pened to  be  superb  weather,  much  like  what  we  have  East 
in  May,  with  the  sky  clear,  and  the  air  crisp,  and  the  whole 
city — with  his  wife  and  child — seemed  to  be  abroad.  The 
good  old  Knickerbocker  custom  of  New  Year  calls  was 
apparently  everywhere  accepted,  and  thoroughly  enjoyed. 
Every  kind  of  vehicle  was  in  demand,  and  “ stag  ” parties 
of  four  or  five  gentlemen — out  calling  on  their  lady 
friends — were  constantly  met,  walking  hilariously  along, 
or  driving  like  mad.  Quite  a number  of  army  officers 
happened  to  be  in  San  Francisco  just  then,  and  their 
uniforms  of  blue  and  brass  made  many  a parlor  gay. 
Of  names  known  east,  there  were  Generals  Ilalleck, 
McDowell,  Allen,  Steele,  Irvin  Gregg,  French,  King, 
Fry,  etc.,  and  these  with  their  brother  officers  were 
everywhere  heartily  welcomed.  Indeed,  army  officers 


ARMY  LIFE  ON  TIIE  COAST 


293 


are  nowhere  more  esteemed  or  better  treated,  than  on 
the  Pacific  Coast,  and  all  are  usually  delighted  with  their 
tour  of  duty  there.  In  former  years,  many  of  them  mar- 
ried magnificent  ranches — encumbered,  however,  with 
native  senoritas — and  here  and  there  we  afterwards 
met  them,  living  like  grand  seignors  on  their  broad  and 
baronial  acres.  Ranches  leagues  in  extent,  and  maintain- 
ing thousands  of  cattle  and  sheep,  are  still  common  in 
California,  and  some  of  the  best  of  these  belong  to  ex-army 
officers.  Their  owners,  however,  do  but  little  in  the  way 
of  pure  farming,  and  are  always  ready  to  give  a quarter 
section  or  so  to  any  stray  emigrant,  who  will  settle  down 
and  cultivate  it — especially  to  old  comrades. 

The  great  feature  of  San  Francisco,  of  course,  is  her 
peerless  bay.  Yet  noble  as  it  is  for  purposes  of  commerce, 
it  avails  little  for  pleasure  excursions ; and  ’Frisco,  indeed, 
might  be  better  off  in  this  respect.  A trip  to  Oakland 
is  sometimes  quite  enjoyable,  and  the  ride  by  railroad 
down  the  peninsula,  skirting  the  bay,  to  San  Jose,  is 
always  a delight.  But  the  bay  itself  is  fickle  and  morose 
in  winter,  and  in  summer  must  be  raw  and  gusty.  The 
suck  of  wind,  from  the  Pacific  into  the  interior,  through 
the  Golden  Gate,  as  through  a funnel,  always  keeps  the 
bay  more  or  less  in  a turmoil  ; and  during  the  time  we 
were  there,  it  seemed  quite  neglected,  except  for  busi- 
ness purposes.  One  day,  in  the  middle  of  January, 
however,  we  had  duties  that  took  us  to  Alcatraz  and 
Angel  Island,  and  essayed  the  trip  thither  in  a little 
sloop.  On  leaving  the  Occidental , the  sky  was  over- 
cast, and  we  had  the  usual  drizzle  of  that  winter ; but 
before  we  reached  Meigg’s  Wharf,  it  had  thickened 
into  a pouring  rain,  and  as  vve  crossed  to  Alcatraz  squalls 
were  churning  the  outer  bay  into  foam  in  all  directions. 
After  an  hour  or  two  there,  on  that  rocky  fortress,  the 


294 


A SAIL  ON  THE  BAY 


key  of  San  Francisco,  with  the  wind  and  rain  dashing 
fitfully  about  us,  we  took  advantage  of  a temporary  lull 
to  re-embark  for  Angel  Island.  We  had  hardly  got  off, 
however,  before  squall  after  squall  came  charging  down 
upon  us;  and  as  we  beat  up  the  little  strait  between 
Angel  Island  and  Socelito,  the  sloop  careening  and  the 
waves  breaking  over  us,  it  seemed  at  times  as  if  we  were 
in  a fair  way  of  going  to  the  bottom.  Just  as  we  round- 
ed the  rocky  point  of  the  Island,  before  reaching  the  land- 
ing, a squall  of  unusual  force  struck  us  athwart  the  bows, 
wave  after  wave  leaped  aboard,  and  for  awhile  our  gallant 
little  craft  quivered  in  the  blast  like  a spent  race-horse,  as 
she  struggled  onward.  An  abrupt  lee  shore  was  on  one 
side,  the  squall  howling  on  the  other ; but  we  faced  it  out, 
and  in  a lull,  that  soon  followed,  shot  by  the  landing  (it 
being  too  rough  to  halt  there),  and  weathering  the  next 
point  dropped  anchor  in  a little  cove  behind  it,  just  in 
time  to  escape  another  squall  even  fiercer  than  the 
former.  Had  we  been  off  either  point,  or  out  in  the 
bay,  when  this  last  one  struck  us,  no  doubt  we  would 
have  gone  ashore  or  to  Davy  Jones’  locker ; and  altogether, 
as  our  Captain  said,  it  was  a “ nasty,  dirty  day,”  even  for 
San  Francisco.  .Returning,  we  had  skies  less  treacher- 
ous and  a smoother  run  ; but  were  glad  to  reach  the  grate- 
ful welcome  and  spacious  halls  of  the  Occidental , best  of 
hotels,  again.  It  may  be,  that  the  bay  was  a little  ruder 
that  day,  than  usual ; but  it  bears  a bad  name  for  sudden 
gusts  and  squalls,  and  San  Franciscans  give  it  a wide 
berth  generally.  Sometimes,  in  summer,  it  is  afflicted  by 
calms  as  well  as  squalls  ; we  heard  some  amusing  stories 
of  parties  becalmed  there  until  late  at  night,  unable  to 
reach  either  shore ; so  that,  altogether,  however  useful 
otherwise,  it  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  adding  muchly 
se  to  the  pleasures  of  a life  in  ’Frisco. 


CLIFF-HOUSE  A.ND  SEA-LIONS 


295 


As  an  offset  to  this,  however,  all  orthodox  San  Fran- 
ciscans, swear  by  the  Cliff-House  and  the  sea-lions.  To 
“go  to  the  Cliff,”  is  the  right  thing  to  do  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  not  to  go  to  the  Clift-House  is  not  to  see  or 
know  California.  In  the  summer,  people  drive  there  in 
the  early  morning,  to  breakfast  and  return  before  the 
sea-breeze  rises,  and  then  hundreds  of  gay  equipages 
throng  the  well-kept  road.  Even  in  winter,  at  the  right 
hour,  you  are  always  sure  to  meet  many  driving  out  or 
in.  Of  course,  we  went  to  the  “ Cliff” — wouldn’t  have 
missed  going  there  for  anything.  Past  Lone  Mountain 
Cemetery,  that  picturesque  city  of  the  dead,  the  fine 
graveled  road  strikes  straight  through  the  sand-hills,  for 
five  or  six  miles,  to  the  Pacific ; and  when  you  reach  the 
overhanging  bluff,  on  which  the  hotel  perches  like  an 
eagle’s  nest,  you  have  a grand  view  of  the  Golden  Gate 
and  the  far-stretching  sea  beyond.  On  the  very  verge 
of  the  horizon  hang  the  Farallones,  pointing  the  way  to 
Japan  and  China,  and  the  white  sails  of  vessels  beating 
in  or  out  the  harbor  dot  the  ocean  far  and  near.  Just  in 
front  of  the  hotel  are  several  groups  of  high  shelving 
rocks,  among  which  the  ocean  moans  and  dashes  cease- 
lessly, and  here  the  seals  or  “ sea-lions,”  as  ’Frisco  lov- 
ingly calls  them,  have  a favorite  rendezvous  and  home. 
The  day  we  were  there,  there  appeared  to  be  a hundred 
or  more  of  them,  large  and  small,  swimming  about  the 
rocks  or  clambering  over  them,  while  pelicans  and  gulls 
kept  them  company.  Some  were  small,  not  larger  than 
a half-grown  sturgeon,  while  others  again  were  huge 
unwieldy  monsters,  not  unlike  legless  oxen,  weighing 
perhaps  a thousand  pounds  or  more.  “ Ben  Butler”  was 
an  immense,  overgrown  creature,  as  selfish  and  saucy, 
apparently,  as  he  could  well  be ; and  another,  called  “ Gen. 
Grant,”  was  not  much  better.  They  kicked  and  cuffed 


296 


BEN.  BUTLER  AND  GEN.  GRANT 


the  rest  overboard  quite  indiscriminately,  though  now 
and  then  they  were  compelled  to  take  a plunge  them- 
selves. Many  contented  themselves  with  merely  gambol- 
ing around  the  water’s  edge ; but  others  had  somehow 
managed  slimily  to  roll  and  climb  forty  or  fifty  feet  up 
the  rocks,  and  there  lay  sunning  themselves  in  supreme 
felicity,  like  veteran  politicians  snug  in  office.  Some- 
times two  or  three  would  get  to  wrangling  about  the 
same  position,  as  if  one  part  of  the  rocks  were  softer 
than  another,  and  then  they  would  bark  and  howl  at 
each  other,  and  presently  essay  to  fight  in  the  most 
clumsy  and  ludicrous  way.  “ Ben  Butler,”  or  “ Gen. 
Grant,”  would  usually  settle  the  squabble,  by  a harsh 
bark,  or  by  flopping  the  malcontents  overboard,  and  then 
would  resume  his  nap  with  becoming  satisfaction.  Un- 
couth, and  yet  half-human  in  their  way,  with  a cry  that 
sometimes  startled  you  like  a distant  wail,  we  wTatched 
their  movements  from  the  piazza  of  the  hotel  with  much 
interest,  and  must  congratulate  ’Frisco  on  having  such  a 
first-class  “ sensation.”  May  her  “ sea-lions”  long  remain 
to  her  as  a “lion”  of  the  first  water,  and  their  numbers 
and  renowrn  never  grow  less ! In  former  years,  they 
were  much  shot  at  and  annoyed,  by  thoughtless  visitors. 
But  subsequently  the  State  took  them  under  her  pro- 
tection, and  now  it  was  a penal  offence  to  injure  or 
disturb  them.  This  is  right,  and  California  should  be 
complimented,  for  thus  trying  to  preserve  and  perpetuate 
this  interesting  colony  of  her  original  settlers. 

Returning,  we  had  a superb  drive  down  the  beach, 
with  the  surf  thundering  at  our  wdieels ; and  thence,  by 
a winding  road  over  and  through  the  hills,  reached  the 
city  again.  It  was  a glorious  day  in  February,  after  a 
fortnight  of  perpetual  drizzle — a June  day  for  beauty,  but 
toned  by  an  October  breeze — the  sun  flashing  overhead  like 


UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  CALIFORNIANS 


297 


a shield  of  gold ; the  road,  over  and  between  the  hills, 
gave  us  from  time  to  time  exquisite  glimpses  of  the  sea 
or  bay  and  city  ; every  sense  seemed  keyed  to  a new  life 
and  power  of  enjoyment ; and  the  memory  of  that  “ drive 
to  the  Cliff,”  is  something  wonderfully  clear  and  charm- 
ing still.  It  would  be  surprising,  if  Californians  did  nofc 
brag  considerably  about  it.  They  are  not  famed  for 
modesty,  and  would  be  heathens,  if  they  kept  silence. 

Californians  are  proverbial  for  their  ups  and  downs, 
and  we  heard  much  of  their  varying  fortunes.  You  will 
scarcely  meet  a leading  citizen,  who  has  not  been  down 
to  “ hard-pan”  once  or  twice  in  his  career,  and  everybody 
seems  to  enjoy  telling  about  it.  In  former  years,  many 
had  been  rich  in  “ feet”  or  “ corner-lots,”  who  yet  had 
not  enough  “ dust”  to  buy  a “square-meal;”  and  men 
with  Great  Expectations,  but  small  cash  in  hand,  were 
still  not  infrequent.  I ran  foul  of  an  old  school-mate 
one  day,  who  arrived  in  California  originally  as  captain 
of  an  ox-team,  which  he  had  driven  across  the  Plains. 
But  now  he  was  deep  in  mining-stocks,  and  twenty-vara 
lots,  and  was  rated  as  a millionaire.  I met  another  who 
for  years  lost  all  he  invested  in  “ feet.”  But  luckily,  at 
last,  he  went  into  Savage  and  Yellow  Jacket,  and  now 
he  owned  handsome  blocks  on  Montgomery  and  Califor- 
nia streets,  and  lived  like  a prince  at  the  Occidental. 
Another  still,  named  O.,  an  eccentric  genius,  came 
out  to  California  early,  and  his  uncle  (already  there) 
secured  him  a place  in  a dry-goods  house.  In  a few 
months,  the  house  failed,  and  O.  fell  back  on  his  uncle’s 
hands  again.  Then  he  was  given  a place  in  a silk- 
house,  but  in  a short  time  this  also  failed.  A fatality 
seemed  to  accompany  the  poor  fellow.  Wherever  he 
went,  the  houses  either  failed,  closed  up,  or  burned  out ; 
and  thus,  time  after  time,  he  came  back  to  his  uncle,  like 

13* 


298 


A SHINING  EXAMPLE 


a bad  penn}\  Once  he  was  reduced  so  low,  he  went  to 
driving  a dray,  glad  to  get  even  that ; and  again,  turned 
chiffonier,  and  eked  out  a precarious  living  by  collecting 
the  old  bones,  scraps  of  tin,  sheet-iron,  etc.,  that  lay  scat- 
tered about  the  suburbs.  Finally,  he  wisely  concluded 
he  had  “ touched  bottom,”  and  that  California  was  no 
place  for  him.  So,  his  kind-hearted  uncle  bought  him 
a ticket  home  by  the  “ Golden  City,”  and  supposed  when 
he  bade  him  good-bye  on  her  gang-way,  that  that  would 
be  the  last  he  would  see  of  O.  in  California.  But  a 
week  or  so  afterwards,  early  one  Sunday  morning,  he  was 
roused  up  by  some  one  rapping  lustily  at  the  door,  and 
opening  it  lo ! there  was  his  hopeful  nephew  again — 
“ large  as  life  and  twice  as  natural ! ” It  seems,  the  ill- 
fated  steamer,  when  two  or  three  hundred  miles  down 
the  Coast,  had  caught  fire  and  been  beached,  with  the 
loss  of  many  lives ; but  O.,  strange  to  say,  had  escaped 
scot-free,  and  now  was  on  hand  again.  He  now  tried 
two  or  three  more  situations,  thinking  his  “ luck”  per- 
haps had  turned,  but  failed  in  all  of  them  or  they  soon 
failed ; and  finally  set  out  for  the  East  again,  but  this 
time  across  the  Plains,  driving  a “ bull-team.”  He  got 
safely  back  to  New  York,  and  taking  hold  of  his  father’s 
business — grain  and  flour — for  a wonder,  made  it  pros- 
per. He  pushed  ahead  with  this  swimmingly  for  awhile, 
until  he  had  made  fifty  thousand  dollars  or  so,  when  he 
concluded  to  go  into  a flour  speculation  on  his  own  account. 
He  did  so,  buying  largely,  when  suddenly  the  bottom 
dropped  out  of  the  market,  leaving  O.  penniless  again, 
with  a large  deficit — he  meanwhile,  disappearing.  Some 
years  afterwards  he  turned  up  in  Minnesota,  where  he 
had  married  a border  maiden,  and  gone  to  farming,  and 
at  the  last  accounts  was  doing  tolerably  well  again. 

Californians  will  spin  you  such  “yarns”  by  the  evening 


BETTER  THINGS  AHEAD. 


299 


— half  humorous,  half  pathetic — and  it  is  upon  such 
romantic  histories,  that  the  Golden  State  has  advanced  to 
empire. 

But  the  day  of  her  adventurers  is  passing  away,  and 
society  there  is  fast  settling  down  to  its  normal'  conditions. 
Fewer  and  still  fewer  of  her  people  return  East,  to  spend 
their  hard-earned  fortunes  ; and  the  generation  now  grow- 
ing up  there  regard  the  Coast  as  their  natural  home,  and 
love  it  dearly.  Proud  of  the  soil  and  enamored  of  the 
climate,  they  expect  great  things  of  the  future,  and  surely 
all  the  world  should  wish  them  well.  There  are  no 
better  or  braver  men,  than  our  citizens  there  generally, 
and  the  Pacific  slope  is  safe  in  their  hands  and  brains, 
beyond  peradventure.  “ Who  helps  himself,  God  helps,” 
is  a wise  old  French  maxim  ; and  California  believes  in 
it,  fully  and  thoroughly,  from  the  Sierras  to  the  sea. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


san  francisco  ( Concluded ). 

TTHIE  Chinese  Question,  we  had  an  opportunity  of 
JL  looking  into  considerably,  first  and  last,  and  here  are 
some  conclusions.  Striking  the  orientals  at  Boise  City, 
in  Idaho,  we  had  followed  them  down  the  Columbia  and 
the  Coast  to  San  Francisco,  and  here  endeavored  to  learn 
all  we  could  about  them.  We  found  them  everywhere 
on  the  streets  and  in  the  houses,  in  pretty  much  aU  oc- 
cupations except  the  very  highest,  and  were  constantly 
amazed  at  their  general  thrift  and  intelligence.  Out  of 
the  hundred  thousand  or  so  on  the  Coast,  perhaps  half 
were  massed  in  San  Francisco  and  its  suburbs;  so  here 
was  the  place  to  see  and  study  John  Chinaman  in 
America,  if  anywhere.  All  wore  the  collarless  Chinese 
blouse,  looped  across  the  breast,  not  buttoned — that  of 
the  poorer  classes  of  coarse  blue  stuff,  but  of  the  richer  of 
broadcloth.  Otherwise,  they  dressed  outwardly  chiefly 
as  Americans.  Here  and  there  a Chinese  hat,  such  as 
you  see  in  the  tea-prints,  appeared,  but  not  often — the 
American  felt-hat  being  the  rule,  stove-pipes  never.  A 
Chinaman  with  a stove-pipe  hat  on  would  truly  be  an 
anomaly,  a violation  of  all  the  unities  and  proprieties  at 
once.  A good  many  still  wore  the  Chinese  shoe, 
wooden-soled,  with  cotton  uppers ; but  the  American 
boot  and  shoe  were  fast  supplanting  this,  especially 
among  the  out-door  classes,  such  as  mechanics  and  laborers. 


THE  HEATHEN  CHINEE 


301 


Pig-tails  were  universal,  generally  hanging  down,  hut 
often  coiled  around  the  head,  under  the  hat,  so  as  to  be 
out  of  the  way  and  attract  less  attention.  In  features, 
of  course,  they  were  all  true  Mongolians;  but  here  and 
there  were  grand  faces,  worthy  of  humanity  anywhere. 
Their  food  consists  chiefly  of  fish  and  rice ; but  the 
wealthier  classes  indulge  freely  in  poultry  and  beef,  and 
the  Chinese  taste  for  these  was  constantly  on  the  increase. 
The  old  stories  of  their  dog  and  rat  diet  are  evidently 
myths,  at  least  here  in  America,  and  no  doubt  are  equally 
so  in  China,  except  in  very  rare  instances,  among  the 
poorest  classes,  and  even  then  only  under  the  direst  neces- 
sity. Intelligent  Californians  laugh  at  such  reports  a-s 
antediluvian,  and  say  their  Chinese  neighbors  are  only  too 
glad  to  eat  the  very  best,  if  they  can  only  get  it.  Everv- 
body  gave  them  credit  for  sobriety,  intelligence,  and  thrift, 
the  three  great  master  qualities  of  mankind,  practically 
speaking  ; and  without  them  the  industry  of  the  Pacific 
Coast,  it  was  conceded,  would  soon  come  to  a stand-still. 
All  are  expert  at  figures,  all  read  and  write  their  own 
tongue,  and  nearly  all  seemed  intent  on  mastering  Eng- 
lish, as  quickly  and  thoroughly  as  possible.  When  not  at 
work  or  otherwise  occupied,  they  were  usually  seen  with 
a book  in  their  hands,  and  seemed  much  given  to  reading 
and  study.  Their  chief  vices  were  gambling,  and  opium- 
smoking ; but  these  did  not  seem  to  prevail  to  the  extent 
we  had  heard,  and  appeared  really  less  injurious,  than 
the  current  vices  of  other  races  on  the  Coast,  all  things 
considered.  The  statistics  of  the  city  and  Coast  somehow 
were  remarkably  in  their  favor,  showing  a less  percent- 
age of  vagrancy  and  crime  among  these  heathens,  than 
any  other  part  of  the  population,  notwithstanding  the 
absurd  prejudices  and  barbarous  discriminations  against 
them.  Their  quickness  to  learn  all  American  ways,  even 


302 


PIGEON-ENGLISH 


when  not  able  to  speak  our  tongue,  was  very  surprising. 
They  engaged  in  all  household  duties,  ran  errands,  worked 
at  trades,  performed  all  kinds  of  manual  labor,  and  yet 
as  a rule,  their  only  dialect  was  a sort  of  chow-chow  or 
“Pigeon  English,”  of  which  the  following  is  a good  spe- 
cimen. It  is  Longfellow’s  “ Excelsior”  done  into  Pigeon- 
English,  and  speaks  for  itself. 


TOPSIDE  GALAH. 


“ That  nightee  teem  he  come  chop  chop. 

One  young  man  walkee,  no  can  slop  ; 

Colo  maskee,  icee  maskee ; 

He  got  flag  ; chop  b’long  welly  culio,  see — 


Topside  Galah  ! 


He  too  muchee  solly  ; one  piecee  eye, 
Lookee  sharp — so  fashion — alia  same  mi ; 
He  talkee  largee,  talkee  stlong, 

Too  muchee  culio ; alia  same  gong — 


Topside  Galah  ! 


" Inside  any  housee  he  can  see  light. 
Any  piecee  loom  got  fire  all  light ; 
He  look  see  plenty  ice  more  high. 
Inside  he  mouf  he  plenty  cly — 


Topside  Galah  ! 


* No  can  walkee  ! * olo  man  speakee  he  ; 
‘ Bimeby  lain  come,  no  can  see  ; 

Hab  got  water,  welly  wide  ! 

Maskee,  mi  must  go  topside — 


Topside  Galah  ! 


“ * Man-man,’  one  galo  talkee  he  ; 

‘ What  for  you  go  topside  look-see  ? ’ 
*Nother  teem,’  he  makee  plenty  cly  ; 
Maskee,  alia  teem  walkee  plenty  high — 


Topside  Galah  ! 


NO  MAKEE  BOBBERY 303 

Take  care  that  spilum  tlee,  young  man  ; 

Take  care  that  icee  ! * he  no  man-man  ; 

That  coolie  chin-chin  he  good  night ; 

He  talkee,  ‘ mi  can  go  all  light  ’ — 

Topside  Galah ! 

“ Joss  pidgin  man  chop  chop  begin. 

Morning  teem  that  Joss  chin-chin. 

No  see  any  man,  he  plenty  fear, 

Cause  some  man  talkee,  he  can  hear — 

Topside  Galah ! 

“ Young  man  makee  die  : one  largee  dog  see, 

Too  muchee  bobbery,  findee  he  ; 

Hand  too  muchee  colo,  inside  can  stop ; 

Alla  same  piecee  flag,  got  culio  chop — 

Topside  Galah ! ” 

“ Pigeon”  is  said  to  be  the  nearest  approach  a China- 
man can  make  to  “ business and  hence  “ Pigeon 
English”  really  means  business  English.  Most  of  the 
above  words  are  English,  more  or  less  distorted  ; a few, 
however,  are  Chinese  Anglicised.  They  always  use  l 
for  r — thus  lice  for  “ rice  mi  for  “ I ,”  etc.;  and  abound 
in  terminal  “ ee's.”  Chop-chop  means  “ very  fast 
maskee , “ don’t  mind  Topside  Galah , “ Excelsior , 
hurrah  ! ” If  you  call  on  a lady,  and  inquire  of  her  Chi- 
nese servant,  “ Missee  have  got  ? ” lie  wdll  reply,  if  she 
be  up  and  about,  “Missee  hab  got  topside  or,  if  she 
be  still  asleep,  “ Missee  hab  got,  wakee  sleepee.”  Hot 
wishing  to  disturb  her,  you  hand  him  your  card,  and  go 
away  with,  “ Maskee,  maskee  ; no  makee  bobbery  ! ” 

We  had  seen  a good  deal  of  the  Chinese  generally, 
but  on  the  evening  of  Dec.  31st  were  so  fortunate  as  to 
meet  most  of  their  leading;  men  together.  The  occasion 
was  a grand  banquet  at  the  Occidental , given  by  the  mer- 
chants of  San  Francisco,  in  honor  of  the  sailing  of  the 


304 


JOHN  AS  A MERCHANT 


Colorado , the  first  steamer  of  the  new  monthly  line  to 
Hong-Kong.  All  the  chief  men  of  the  city — merchants, 
lawyers,  clergymen,  politicians — were  present,  and  among 
the  rest  some  twenty  or  more  Chinese  merchants  and 
bankers.  The  Governor  of  the  State  presided,  and  the 
military  and  civil  dignitaries  most  eminent  on  the  Coast 
were  all  there.  The  magnificent  Dining-Room  of  the 
Occidental  was  handsomely  decorated  with  festoons  and 
flowers,  and  tastefully  draped  with  the  flags  of  all  nations 
— chief  among  which,  of  course,  were  our  own  Stars  and 
Stripes,  and  the  Yellow-Dragon  of  the  Flowery  Empire. 
A peculiar  feature  wras  an  infinity  of  bird-cages  all  about 
the  room,  from  which  hundreds  of  canaries  and  mocking- 
birds discoursed  exquisite  music  the  livelong  evening. 
The  creature  comforts  disposed  of,  there  were  eloquent 
addresses  by  everybody,  and  among  the  rest  one  by  Mr. 
Fung  Tang,  a young  Chinese  merchant,  who  made  one  of 
the  briefest  and  most  sensible  of  them  all.  It  was  in  fair 
English,  and  vastly  better  than  the  average  of  post-pran- 
dial discourses.  This  was  the  only  set  speech  by  a China- 
man, but  the  rest  conversed  freely  in  tolerable  English, 
and  in  deportment  were  certainly  perfect  Chesterfields  of 
courtesy  and  propriety.  They  were  mostly  large,  dignified, 
fine-looking  men,  and  two  of  them — Mr.  IIop  Kee,  a 
leading  tea-merchant,  and  Mr.  Chy  Lung,  a noted  silk- 
factor — had  superb  heads  and  faces,  that  would  have 
attracted  attention  anywhere.  They  sat  by  themselves  ; 
but  several  San  Franciscans  of  note  shared  their  table, 
and  everybody  hob-nobbed  with  them,  more  or  less, 
throughout  the  evening.  These  were  the  representatives 
of  the  great  Chinese  Emigration  and  Banking  Compa- 
nies, whose  checks  pass  current  on  ’Change  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, for  a hundred  thousand  dollars  or  more  any  day, 
and  whose  commercial  integrity  so  far  was  unstained. 


JOHN  AS  A BANKER  AND  EXPRESSMAN 


305 


There  are  five  of  these  Companies  in  all,  the  Yung-Wo, 
the  Sze-Yap,  the  Sain- Yap,  the  Yan-Wo,  and  the  Hing- 
Yung.  They  contract  with  their  countrymen  in  China 
to  transport  them  to  America,  insure  them  constant 
work  while  here  at  fixed  wages,  and  at  the  expiration  of 
their  contract  return  them  to  China  again,  dead  or  alive, 
if  so  desired.  They  each  have  a large  and  comfortable 
building  in  San  Francisco,  where  they  board  and  lodge 
their  members,  when  they  first  arrive,  or  when  sick,  or 
out  of  work,  or  on  a visit  from  the  interior.  Chinese  beg- 
gars are  rare  on  the  Coast,  and  our  public  hospitals  con- 
tain no  Chinese  patients,  although  John  before  landing 
has  always  to  pay  a “ hospital-tax”  of  ten  dollars.  This  is 
what  it  is  called  out  there  ; but,  of  course,  it  is  a robbery 
and  swindle,  which  the  Golden  State  ought  promptly  to 
repeal.  These  great  Companies  also  act,  as  express- 
agents  and  bankers,  all  over  the  Coast.  In  all  the  chief 
towns  and  mining  districts,  wherever  you  enter  a Chi- 
nese quarter  or  camp,  you  will  find  a representative  of 
one  or  more  of  them,  who  will  procure  anything  a Chi- 
naman needs,  from  home  or  elsewhere ; and  faithfully 
remit  to  the  Flowery  Kingdom  whatever  he  wants  to 
send,  even  his  own  dead  body.  Both  parties  appear  to 
keep  their  contracts  well — a breach  of  faith  being 
seldom  recorded.  Here,  surely,  is  evidence  of  fine  tal- 
ent for  organization  and  management — the  best  tests  of 
human  intellect  and  capacity — and  a hint  at  the  existence 
of  sterling  qualities,  which  the  English-speaking  nations 
are  slow  to  credit  other  races  with.  Such  gigantic 
schemes,  such  far-reaching  plans,  such  harmonious  work- 
ings, and  exact  results,  imply  a genius  for  affairs,  that 
not  even  the  Anglo-Saxon  can  afford  to  despise,  and 
which  all  others  may  ponder  with  profit.  A race  that 
can  plan  and  execute  such  things  as  these,  must  have 


306 


JOHN  AS  AN  OPERATIVE 


some  vigor  and  virility  in  it,  whatever  its  other  peculiar- 
ities. 

Some  days  after  the  Banquet,  we  were  driven  out  to 
the  Mission  Woolen  Mills,  where  Donald  McLennan,  a 
Massachusetts  Scotch-Yankee,  was  converting  California 
wool  into  gold.  The  climate  being  so  favorable  to  sheep, 
the  wool-product  of  the  coast  was  already  large,  and 
everywhere  rapidly  increasing.  In  1867,  California  alone 
yielded  ten  million  pounds,  and  the  rest  of  the  coast 
fully  two  millions  more.  Of  this  amount,  about  one-half 
was  consumed  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  the  balance 
exported  to  New  York  and  Liverpool.  The  average 
price  per  pound  in  San  Francisco  was  about  seventeen 
cents,  coin  ; but  this  was  lower,  than  it  had  usually  been.  * 
There  were  several  other  Woolen  Mills  on  the  Coast; 
but  the  Mission-Mills  were  the  largest,  and  had  a great 
reputation  for  honest  work.  They  were  then  doing  a 
business  of  about  a million  dollars  per  year,  coin,  in 
cloths,  cassimeres,  blankets,  flannels,  shawls,  etc.,  and  the 
demand  for  their  goods  was  constantly  on  the  increase. 
Their  work,  on  the  whole,  was  of  a superior  character, 
and  Californians  were  justly  very  proud  of  it.  They 
wrere  supplying  all  the  Army  blankets  in  use  on  the  Coast, 
and  what  a contrast  they  were  to  the  “ shoddy  ” webs, 
issued  to  our  Boys  in  Blue  east  during  the  war  ! The 
troops  transferred  from  the  east  now  threw  their  old  Army 
blankets  away,  on  arriving  in  San  Francisco,  and  gladly 
furnished  themselves  with  these  Mission  blankets,  at 
their  own  expense,  before  leaving  for  the  wilds  of  Wash- 
ington and  Arizona.  Some  extra  specimens,  intended 
for  the  Paris  Exposition,  as  white  as  new-fallen  snow 
and  soft  as  satin,  had  the  American  and  French  coats  of 

* In  1873,  she  yielded  36,000,000  pounds,  which  she  sold  for  about 
twenty  cents  per  pound,  or  say  $7,000,000. 


JOHN  AS  A RAILROAD-BUILDER 


307 


arms  embroidered  very  handsomely  on  them.  Another 
pair,  meant  for  General  Grant,  were  lustrous  with  the 
Stars  and  Stripes,  and  traditioual  eagle,  and  now  no 
doubt  help  to  furnish  the  White  House.  A pair  sent  to 
Gen.  M.  in  the  east,  a noted  connoisseur  in  blankets,  he 
declared  the  finest  he  ever  saw,  and  added,  “ My  daugh- 
ter would  make  one  of  them  into  an  opera-cloak,  they 
are  so  elegant,  if  she  hadn’t  one  already.”  I mention  all 
these  things  thus  particularly,  in  order  to  emphasize  the 
fact,  that  out  of  the  450  persons  then  employed  about 
these  Mills,  350  were  Chinamen.  For  the  heavier 
work,  Americans  or  Europeans  were  preferred ; but  the 
more  delicate  processes,  we  were  assured,  Chinamen 
learned  more  quickly  and  performed  more  deftly,  besides 
never  becoming  drunk,  or  disorderly,  or  going  on  a 
“strike.”  We  saw  them  at  the  looms,  engaged  in  the 
most  painstaking  and  superb  pieces  of  workmanship,  and 
they  could  not  have  been  more  attentive  and  exact,  if 
they  had  been  a part  of  the  machinery  itself.  And  yet, 
these  one  hundred  Anglo-Saxons  were  paid  $2,95  per 
day,  coin,  while  the  three  hundred  and  fifty  Chinamen 
received  only  $1,10  per  day,  coin,  though  the  average 
work  of  each  was  about  the  same.  Without  this  cheap 
labor  of  John  Chinaman,  these  Mills  w^ould  have  had  to 
close  up ; with  it,  they  were  run  at  a profit,  and  at  the 
same  time  were  a great  blessing  and  credit  to  the  Pacific 
Coast  in  every  way.  So,  also,  the  Central  Pacific  Kail- 
road  was  then  being  pushed  through  and  over  the  Sierra 
Nevadas,  by  some  ten  thousand  Chinamen,  working  for 
one  dollar  per  day  each,  in  coin,  and  finding  themselves, 
when  no  other  labor  could  be  had  for  less  than  two  dol- 
lars and  a half  per  day,  coin.  It  was  simply  a ques- 
tion with  the  Central  directors,  whether  to  build  the 
road  or  not.  Without  John,  it  was  useless  to  attempt 


308 


JOHN  AS  AN  ACTOR — 


it,  as  the  expense  would  have  bankrupted  the  company, 
even  if  other  labor  could  have  been  had,  which  was  prob- 
lematical. With  him,  the  road  is  already  a fact  accom- 
plished ; and  in  view  of  possible  contingencies,  nationally 
and  politically,  who  shall  say  we  have  completed  it  an 
hour  too  soon  ? Here  are  practical  results,  not  shadowy 
theories — of  such  a character,  too,  as  should  give  one 
pause,  however  anti-Chinese,  and  ought  to  outweigh  a 
world  of  prejudices. 

Hot  long  afterwards,  we  were  invited  to  joih  a party 
of  gentlemen,  and  make  a tour  of  the  Chinese  quarter. 
Part  were  from  the  East,  like  ourselves,  bent  on  informa- 
tion, and  the  rest  Pacific-Coasters.  We  started  early  in 
the  evening,  escorted  by  two  policemen,  who  were 
familiar  with  the  ins  and  outs  of  Chinadom,  and  did  not 
reach  the  Occidental  again  until  long  after  midnight. 
We  went  first  to  the  Chinese  Theatre,  an  old  hotel  on 
the  corner  of  Jackson  and  Dupont  streets,  that  had 
recently  been  metamorphosed  into  an  Oriental  play- 
house. We  found  two  or  three  hundred  Chinese  here, 
of  both  sexes,  but  mainly  males,  listening  to  a play,  that 
required  eighty  weeks  or  months — our  informants  were 
not  certain  which — to  complete  its  performance.  Here 
was  drama  for  you,  surely,  and  devotion  to  it ! It  was  a 
history  of  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  by  some  Chinese 
Shakespeare — half-tragedy,  half-comedy,  like  most  human 
history — and  altogether  was  a curious  medley.  The 
actors  appeared  to  be  of  both  sexes,  but  we  were  told 
were  only  men  and  boys.  Their  dresses  were  usually 
very  rich,  the  finest  of  embroidered  silks,  and  their  acting 
quite  surprised  us.  Their  pantomime  was  excellent, 
their  humor  irresistible,  and  their  love-passages  a good 
reproduction  of  the  grand  passion,  that  in  all  ages  “makes 
the  world  go  round.”  But  it  is  to  be  doubted,  if  the 


JOHN  AS  A GAMBLER- 


309 


Anglo-Saxon  ear  will  ever  become  quite  reconciled  to 
John’s  orchestra.  This  consisted  of  a rough  drum,  a 
rude  banjo  or  guitar,  and  a sort  of  violin,  over  whose 
triple  clamors  a barbarous  clarionet  squeaked  and  squealed 
continually.  Japanese  music,  as  rendered  by  Risley’s 
troupe  of  “ Jugglers,”  is  much  similar  to  it;  only  John’s 
orchestra  is  louder,  and  more  hideous.  Much  of  the 
play  was  pantomime,  and  other  much  opera ; some,  how- 
ever, was  common  dialogue,  and  when  this  occurred, 
the  clash  and  clang  of  the  Chinese  consonants  was  some- 
thing fearful.  Every  word  seemed  to  end  in  “ ng,”  as 
Chang,  Ling,  Hong,  W ung  ; and  when  the  parts  became 
animated,  their  voices  roared  and  rumbled  about  the 
stage,  like  Chinese  gongs  in  miniature.  The  general 
behavior  of  the  audience  was  good ; everybody,  however, 
smoked — the  majority  cigars  and  cigarritos,  a very  few 
opium.  Over  the  theatre  was  a Chinese  lottery-office, 
on  entering  which  the  proprietor  tendered  you  wine 
and  cigars,  like  a genuine  Californian.  He  himself  was 
whiffing  away  at  a cigarrito,  and  was  as  polite  and  politic, 
as  a noted  Hew  York  ex-M.  C,  in  the  same  lucrative 
business.  Several  Chinamen  dropped  in  to  buy  tickets, 
while  we  were  there ; and  the  business  seemed  to  be 
conducted  on  the  same  principle,  or  rather  want  of 
principle,  as  among  Anglo-Saxons  elsewhere. 

Hext  we  explored  the  famous  Barbary  Coast,  and 
witnessed  scenes  that  Charles  Dickens  never  dreamed  of, 
with  all  his  studies  of  the  dens  and  slums  of  London  and 
Paris.  Here  in  narrow,  noisome  alleys  are  congregated 
the  wretched  Chinese  women,  that  are  imported  by  the 
ship-load,  mainly  for  infamous  purposes.  As  a class,  they 
are  small  in  stature,  scarcely  larger  than  an  American 
girl  of  fourteen,  and  usually  quite  plain.  Some  venture 
on  hoops  and  crinoline,  but  the  greater  part  retain  the 


THE  BARBARY  COAST- 


210 

Chinese  wadded  gown  and  trousers.  Their  chignons  are 
purely  Chinese — huge,  unique,  indescribable — and  would 
excite  the  envy  even  of  a Broadway  belle.  They  may 
be  seen  on  the  street  any  day  in  San  Francisco,  bonnet- 
less, fan  in  hand,  hobbling  along  in  their  queer  little 
shoes,  perfect  fac-similles  of  the  figures  you  see  on 
lacquered  ware  imported  from  the  Orient.  They  are  not 
more  immodest,  than  those  of  our  own  race,  who  ply  the 
same  vocation  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York;  and  their 
fellow-countrymen,  it  seemed,  behaved  decently  wrell  even 
here.  But  here  is  the  great  resort  of  sailors,  miners, 
’long-shoremen,  and  the  floating  population  generally  of 
San  Francisco,  and  the  brutality  and  bestiality  of  the 
Saxon  and  the  Celt  here  all  comes  suddenly  to  the  surface, 
as  if  we  were  fiends  incarnate.  Here  are  the  St.  Giles 
of  London  and  the  Five  Points  of  New  York,  magnified 
and  intensified  (if  possible),  both  crowded  into  one,  and 
what  a hideous  example  it  is  for  Christendom  to  set  to 
Heathendom!  San  Francisco  owes  it  to  herself,  and  to 
our  boasted  civilization,  to  cleanse  this  Augean  stable — 
to  obliterate,  to  stamp  out  this  plague-spot — to  purge  it, 
if  need  be,  by  fire — and  she  has  not  a day  to  lose  in  doing 
it.  It  is  the  shameful  spectacle,  shocking  alike  to  gods 
and  men,  of  a strong  race  trampling  a weaker  one 
remorselessly  in  the  mud  ; and  justice  will  not  sleep 
forever,  confronted  by  such  enormities. 

The  same  evening  we  took  a turn  through  the  Chi- 
nese gambling-houses,  but  did  not  find  them  worse  than 
similar  institutions  elsewhere.  Indeed,  they  were  rather 
more  quiet  and  respectable,  than  the  average  of  such 
“hells”  in  San  Francisco.  They  were  frequented  solely 
by  Chinamen,  and  though  John  is  not  averse  to  “fight- 
ing the  tiger,”  he  proposes  to  do  it  in  his  own  dolce  far 
niente  way.  They  seemed  to  have  only  one  game,  which 


JOHN  AS  A HOLIDAY-KEEP ER 


311 


consisted  in  betting  whether  in  diminishing  steadily  a 
given  pile  of  perforated  brass-coins,  an  odd  or  even  num- 
ber of  them  would  at  last  be  left.  The  banker  with  a 
little  rod,  drew  the  coins,  two  at  a time,  rapidty  out  of 
the  pile  towards  himself,  and  when  the  game  was  ended 
all  parties  cheerfully  paid  up  their  losses  or  pocketed  their 
gains.  The  stakes  were  small,  seldom  more  than  twenty- 
five  or  fifty  cents  each,  and  disputes  infrequent.  A rude 
idol  or  image  of  Josh,  with  a lamp  constantly  burning 
before  it,  appeared  in  all  these  dens,  and  indeed  w^as  uni- 
versal throughout  the  Chinese  quarter. 

The  Chinese  New  Year  comes  in  February,  and  is  an 
occasion  of  rare  festivities.  It  began  at  midnight  on  the 
4th  that  year,  and  was  ushered  in  writh  a lavish  discharge 
of  fire-crackers  and  rockets,  to  which  our  usual  Fourth  of 
July  bears  about  the  same  comparison  as  a minnow  to  a 
whale.  The  fusilade  of  crackers  continued,  more  or  less, 
for  a day  or  two,  until  the  wdiole  Chinese  quarter  was  lit- 
tered with  their  remains.  It  takes  them  three  days  to 
celebrate  this  holiday,  and  during  all  this  period  there 
was  a general  suspension  of  business,  and  every  China- 
man kept  open  house.  Their  leading  merchants  welcomed 
all  “Melican”  men  who  called  upon  them,  and  the  Celes- 
tials themselves  were  constantly  passing  from  house  to 
house,  exchanging  the  compliments  of  the  season.  I 
dropped  in  upon  several,  whom  I had  met  at  the  Banquet, 
and  now  have  lying  before  me  the  unique  cards  of  Mr. 
Hop  Kee,  Mr.  Chy  Lung,  Mr.  Fung  Tang,  Messrs.  Tung 
Fu  and  Co.,  Messrs.  Kwoy  Hing  and  Co.,  Messrs.  Sun 
Chung  Kee  and  Co.,  etc.  Several  of  these  understood  and 
spoke  English  very  well,  and  all  bore  themselves  becom- 
ingly, like  well-to-do  gentlemen.  Like  the  majority  of 
their  countrymen,  many  were  small ; but  some  w^ere  full- 
sized,  athletic  men,  scarcely  inferior,  if  at  all,  to  our  aver- 


312 


JOHN  AS  A LEGISLATOR — 


age  American.  Their  residences  were  usually  back  of 
their  stores,  and  here  we  everywhere  found  refreshments 
set  out,  and  all  invited  to  partake,  with  a truly  Knicker- 
bocker hospitality.  Tea,  sherry,  champagne,  cakes, 
sweetmeats,  cigars,  all  were  offered  without  stint,  but 
never  pressed  unduly.  For  three  days  the  whole  Chi- 
nese quarter  was  thus  given  up  to  wholesale  rejoicing, 
and  hundreds  of  Americans  flocked  thither,  to  witness  the 
festivity  and  fun.  John  everywhere  appeared  in  his  best 
bib  and  tucker,  if  not  with  a smile  on  his  face,  yet  with  a 
look  of  satisfaction  and  content ; for  this  was  the  end  of 
his  debts,  as  well  as  the  beginning  of  a new  year.  At 
this  period,  by  Chinese  custom  or  law,  a general  settle- 
ment takes  place  among  them,  a balance  is  struck  between 
debtor  and  creditor,  and  everybody  starts  afresh.  If  una- 
ble to  pay  up,  the  debtor  surrenders  his  assets  for  the 
equal  benefit  of  his  creditors,  his  debts  are  sponged  out, 
and  then  with  a new  ledger  and  a clean  conscience  he 
“picks  his  flint  and  tries  it  again.”  This  is  the  merciful, 
if  not  sensible,  Bankrupt  Law  of  the  Chinese,  in  force 
among  these  heathen  for  thousands  of  years — “ for  a 
time  whereof  the  memory  of  man  runneth  not  to  the 
contrary” — and  its  humane  and  wise  provisions  suggest, 
whether  our  Christian  legislators,  after  all,  may  not  have 
something  to  learn,  even  from  Pagan  codes. 

The  Chinese  temple,  synagogue,  or  “ Josh-House,” 
of  which  we  had  heard  such  conflicting  reports,  stands 
near  the  corner  of  Kearney  and  Pine  streets,  in  the 
heart  of  the  city.  It  is  a simple  structure  of  brick,  two 
or  three  stories  high,  and  would  attract  little  or  no 
attention,  were  it  not  for  a plain  marble  slab  over  the 
entrance,  with  “Sze-Yap  Asylum”  carved  upon  it,  in 
gilt  letters,  and  the  same  repeated  in  Chinese  characters. 
It  was  spoken  of  as  a “ Heathen  Synagogue,”  a “ Pagan 


JOHN  AS  A HEATHEN 


313 


Temple,”  etc.,  and  we  had  heard  much  ado  about  it,  from 
people  of  the  William  Nye  school  chiefly,  long  before 
reaching  San  Francisco.  But,  in  reality,  it  appeared  to 
be  only  an  asylum  or  hospital,  for  the  unemployed  and  in- 
firm of  the  Sze-Yap  Emigration  Company  ; with  a small 
u upper  chamber,”  set  apart  for  such  religious  services,  as 
to  them  seemed  meet.  The  other  companies  all  have  simi- 
lar hospitals  or  asylums,  but  we  visited  only  this  one.  The 
first  room  on  the  ground-floor  seemed  to  be  the  business- 
room  or  council-chamber  of  the  company,  and  this  was 
adorned  very  richly  with  crimson  and  gold.  Silk- hang- 
ings were  on  the  walls,  arm-chairs  elaborately  carved 
along  the  sides,  and  at  the  end  on  a raised  platform  stood 
a table  and  chair,  as  if  ready  for  business.  The  room 
adjoining  seemed  to  be  the  general  smoking  and  loung- 
ing room  of  the  members  of  the  company.  Here  several 
Chinamen  lay  stretched  out,  on  rude  but  comfortable 
lounges,  two  smoking  opium,  all  the  rest  only  cigarritos — 
taking  their  afternoon  siesta.  Back  of  this  were  the 
dining-room,  kitchen,  etc.,  but  we  did  not  penetrate 
thither.  A winding  stairs  brought  us  to  the  second  floor, 
and  here  was  the  place  reserved  for  religious  purposes, — 
an  “ upper  chamber”  perhaps  twenty  by  thirty  feet,  or 
even  less.  Its  walls  and  ceiling  were  hung  with  silk,  and 
here  and  there  were  placards,  inscribed  with  moral 
maxims  from  Confucius  and  other  writers,  much  as  we 
suspend  the  same  on  the  walls  of  our  Sunday-school 
rooms,  with  verses  on  them  from  our  Sacred  writings. 
These  mottoes,  of  course,  were  in  Chinese;  but  they 
were  said  to  exhort  John  to  virtue,  fidelity,  integrity,  the 
veneration  of  ancestors,  and  especially  to  admonish  the 
young  men  not  to  forget,  that  they  are  away  from  home, 
and  to  do  nothing  to  prejudice  the  character  of  their  coun- 
try in  the  eyes  of  foreigners.  A few  gilded  spears  and 

14 


314 


A CHEAP  RELIGION 


battle-axes  adorned  either  side,  while  overhead  hung 
clusters  of  Chinese  lanterns,  unique  and  beautiful. 
Flowers  were  scattered  about  quite  profusely,  both 
natural  and  artificial — the  latter  perfect  in  their  way. 
At  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  in  “ a dim  religious  light,” 
amid  a barbaric  array  of  bannerets  and  battle-axes,  stood 
their  sacred  Josh — simply  a Representative  Chinaman, 
perhaps  half  life-size,  with  patient  pensive  eyes,  long 
drooping  moustaches,  and  an  expression  doubtless  meant 
for  sublime  repose  or  philosophic  indifference.  Here  all 
orthodox  Chinamen  in  San  Francisco,  connected  with 
the  Sze-Yap  company,  were  expected  to  come  at  least 
once  a year,  and  propitiate  the  deity  by  burning  a slip 
of  paper  before  his  image.  There  was  also  some  praying 
to  be  done,  but  this  was  accomplished  by  putting  printed 
prayers  in  a machine  run  by  clock-work.  Tithes  there 
were  none — at  least  worth  mentioning.  Altogether,  this 
seemed  to  be  a very  easy  and  cheap  religion  ; and  yet, 
easy  as  it  was,  John  did  not  seem  to  trouble  himself 
much  about  it.  The  place  looked  much  neglected,  as  if 
worshippers  were  scarce,  and  devotees  infrequent.  A 
priest  or  acolyte,  who  came  in  and  trimmed  the  ever- 
burning lamp,  without  even  a bow  or  genuflection  to 
Josh,  was  the  only  person  about  the  “Temple,”  while 
we  were  there.  The  dormitories  and  apartments  for  the 
sick  and  infirm,  we  were  told,  were  on  this  same  floor 
and  above;  but  we  did  not  visit  them.  This  Josh- 
w'orship,  such  as  it  is,  seemed  to  be  general  among  the 
Chinese,  except  the  handful  gathered  into  the  various 
Christian  churches;  but  it  did  not  appear  to  be  more 
than  a ceremony.  The  truth  is,  John  is  a very  practical 
creature,  and  was  already  beginning  to  understand,  that 
he  is  in  a new  land  and  among  new  ideas.  Surely,  our 
vigorous,  aggressive  California  Christians  stand  in  nc 


china’s  necessity — • 315 

danger  from  such  Pagan  “ Temples,”  and  our  all- 
embracing  nationality  can  well  afford  to  tolerate  them, 
as  China  in  turn  tolerates  ours.  The  hospital  and 
asylum  part  of  them,  we  might  well  imitate;  and  as  for 
the  rest,  is  it  not  Emerson,  who  says  : 

“ We  are  masters  of  tlie  years. 

Of  the  seven  stars  and  golden  spheres, 

Of  Caesar’s  hand  and  Plato’s  brain, 

Of  Lord  Christ’s  heart,  and  Shakespeare’s  strain  ? ” 

Our  own  religion  and  civilization  are  too  potent,  or 
ought  to  be,  to  be  affected  by  such  a worship ; and  if  its 
simple  rites  comfort  or  content  John  in  his  rough  transi- 
tion to  the  nineteenth  century,  let  him  practice  them  in 
peace.  If  treated  wisely,  it  will  not  be  long  before  he 
discards  them  forever. 

So  much  for  the  Chinese  in  San  Francisco.  Else- 
where, throughout  California  and  Nevada,  subsequently, 
we  saw  them  at  work  in  vineyards,  on  farms,  in  the 
mines,  and  their  industry,  fidelity,  and  skill  were  con- 
ceded substantially  by  everybody.  This  Chinese  Prob- 
lem, of  course,  has  its  embarrassments ; but  it  is  already 
looming  into  importance,  and  must  be  met.  Already  we 
have  nearly  a hundred  thousand  of  these  almond-eyed 
strangers  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  the  number  swells 
monthly.  In  spite  of  obstructions  and  discouragements, 
this  yellow  stream  sets  steadily  in,  and  seems  as  irresistible 
as  the  tide,  if  not  as  inexhaustible.  China,  with  her  teem- 
ing population  of  four  hundred  millions  of  souls,  or  one- 
third  of  the  human  family,  has  already  overflowed  into  all 
the  countries  adjacent  to  her,  and  now  seeks  further  outlet 
here  in  America.  To  her,  it  is  simply  a question  of 
increase  and  subsistence.  And  here,  fortunately,  from 
Alaska  to  the  Isthmus,  we  have  room  enough  and  to 


316 


America’s  opportunity — 


spare,  for  all  her  surplus  millions.  With  her,  labor  is  a 
drug,  the  cheapest  article  she  has,  and  so  she  exports 
it.  With  us,  it  is  largely  in  demand,  and  everywhere* 
rising  in  value.  The  Pacific  slope,  and  the  great  internal 
basin  of  the  continent,  to-day  absolutely  need  millions  of 
cheap  workers — men,  who  can  deftly  handle  the  pick-axe 
and  the  spade,  the  plow  and  the  hoe,  the  shuttle  and  the 
loom,  and,  it  is  plain,  must  get  them  from  Asia,  or  not 
get  them  at  all;  for  the  Atlantic  slope,  and  our  great 
West,  stand  ready  to  absorb  all  Europe  can  spare,  and 
more.  With  John,  their  mines  will  be  opened,  their 
forests  cleared,  their  fields  irrigated  and  tilled,  their  rail- 
roads built,  their  cotton  and  woollen-mills  erected  and 
run,  and  in  short  every  avenue  of  industry  and  trade  made 
busy  and  prosperous.  Without  John,  a vast  expanse 
of  matchless  territory  there  must  remain  practically  a 
wilderness  and  a desert,  for  long  years  to  come.  Is  it 
wise,  then,  would  it  be  humane  and  sensible — to  turn 
aside  from  and  reject  these  patient,  industrious,  orderly,' 
frugal,  labor-seeking,  business-loving  strangers,  whom 
Providence  just  now  seems  to  tender  us,  as  a mighty 
means  for  subduing  and  civilizing  the  continent ; or 
should  we  not,  rather,  accept  them  thankfully,  as  God’s 
instruments  for  good,  and  make  the  most  of  their  brain 
and  muscle  ? The  inexorable,  all-prevailing  law  of  sup- 
ply and  demand,  it  would  seem,  has  already  settled  this 
question,  or  is  in  a fair  way  to  settle  it ; and  it  but  remains 
to  consider,  what  we  shall  do  with  them. 

In  the  first  place,  John  nowhere  aspires  to  vote,  nor 
even  to  be  a citizen.  So  far,  his  sole  claim  has  been  for 
the  right  to  work,  and  to  receive  “ a fair  day’s  wages  for 
a fair  day’s  work.”  With  the  imperturbability  of  fate, 
he  has  settled  down  on  this,  and  calmly  awaits  our 
answer,  not  doubting  the  result.  If  you  object,  that  he 


GIVE  JOHN  A CHANCE 


317 


persists  in  being  a foreigner,  all  expecting  some  day  to 
return  to  China,  his  answer  is  all  immigrants  to  a new 
country  are  more  or  less  of  that  mind  ; and,  besides,  as  yet 
nothing  has  been  done  to  induce  him  to  Americanize 
himself.  Their  leading  men  said,  no  doubt  many  of  their 
countrymen  would  bring  their  wives  and  children  here, 
and  settle  down  among  us,  if  they  could  be  sure  of  safety 
and  protection  ; but  that  now  California  was  u no  place 
for  a China  woman — hardly  safe  for  a China  man ! ” 
They  said,  they  had  found  America  very  good  for 
work,  and  “ muchee  ” good  for  business ; but  they  had 
to  pay  odious  taxes,  not  exacted  of  other  persons — 
were  not  permitted  to  testify  in  court,  except  for  or 
against  each  other — were  abused  and  maltreated  from  one 
end  of  the  Coast  to  the  others— were  at  the  mercy  of  white 
ruffians,  who  might  rob  and  even  kill  them,  with  im- 
punity, unless  Caucasians  w*ere  present — and,  in  short, 
that  as  yet  Chinamen  here  “ had  no  rights  that  Melican 
men  were  bound  to  respect.”  Now,  I say,  let  us  change 
all  this.  Let  us  do  justice,  even  to  the  poorest  and  hum- 
blest of  God’s  children.  Let  us  give  John,  too,  “ 2>,fair 
start  and  an  equal  chance  in  the  race  of  life,”  the  same  as 
every  other  human  being  on  American  soil ; and  we  shall 
soon  check  the  re-liow  to  the  Flowery  Ivingdom,  and 
build  up  an  empire  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  worthy  of  our 
matchless  soil  and  climate  there.  Existing  labor  and 
skill  might  suffer  somewhat  at  first,  as  in  all  industrial 
changes  ; but,  in  the  end,  they  would  become  employers, 
and  supply  the  brains  to  guide  the  Mongolian  hand  and 
foot.  The  first  generation  passed  away,  the  next  de- 
Chinaized,  Americanized,  and  educated,  would  soon  be- 
come absorbed  in  the  national  lifer  and  known  only  as 
model  artisans  and  workers.  As  the  ocean  receives  all 
rains  and  rivers,  and  yet  shows  it  not,  so  America 


318 


GOV.  low’s  speech — 


receives  the  Saxon  and  the  Celt,  the  Protestant  and  the 
Catholic,  and  can  yet  receive  Sambo  and  John,  and  absorb 
them  all.  The  school-house  and  the  church,  the  news- 
paper and  the  telegraph,  can  be  trusted  to  work  out  their 
logical  results ; and  time,  our  sure  ally,  would  shape  and 
fashion  even  these  into  keen  American  citizens. 

There  were  indications,  that  the  Coast  had  fallen  to 
thinking  seriously  of  all  this,  and  somehow  meant  to 
deal  more  justly  with  the  Chinese  hereafter.  The  anti- 
Chinese  mobs  in  the  cities  and  towns  were  passing  away, 
and  even  among  the  mining-camps  Vigilance  Commit- 
tees were  beginning  to  execute  rough  justice  on  thieves 
and  murderers,  when  their  treatment  of  John  became  too 
flagrant  and  notorious.*  Capital,  always  keen-sighted, 
was  getting  to  see  the  necessity  for  their  labor  and  skill, 
and  the  culture  and  conscience  of  the  Coast  were  already 
on  their  side.  Gov.  Low,  (since  Minister  to  China,  most 
fittingly)  presided  at  the  Occidental  Banquet,  and  in  his 
remarks  there  took  strong  ground  in  their  favor.  He 
said,  among  other  good  things  : 

“We  must  learn  to  treat  the  Chinese  who  come  to  live 
among  us  decently,  and  not  oppress  them  by  unfriendly 
legislation,  nor  allow  them  to  be  abused,  robbed  and 
murdered,  without  extending  to  them  any  adequate  remedy. 

“ I am  a strong  believer  in  the  strength  of  mind  and 
muscle  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  which  will  wdn  in  the 
contest  for  supremacy  with  any  people,  without  the  aid  of 
unequal  and  oppressive  laws ; and  the  man,  who  is  afraid 
to  take  his  chances  on  equal  terms  with  his  opponents,  is  a 
coward  and  unworthy  the  name  of  an  American. 

“ Were  I to  sum  up  the  whole  duty  imposed  upon  us,  I 
should  say,  let  us  be  honest,  industrious  and  frugal,  be 
persevering  and  progressive,  and  remember  Raleigh’s 
* See  p.  225. 


GOOD  MISSIONARY  GROUND 


319 


maxim,  that  “ Whoever  commands  the  sea  commands  the 
trade  of  the  world,  and  whoever  commands  the  trade  of 
the  world  commands  the  riches  of  the  world,  and  conse- 
quently the  world  itself.” 

So,  the  pulpit,  and  the  press,  as  a rule,  omitted  no  oppor- 
tunity to  speak  a kind  word,  for  them,  and  to  denounce 
the  barbarism,  and  absurdity,  of  existing  statutes  against 
them.  In  San  Francisco,  a public-school  had  been 
established  for  their  benefit,  and  was  crowded  day  and 
night  with  adult  Chinamen  striving  to  learn  English. 
The  public-school  fund  running  short  that  year,  (1867) 
the  Chinese  merchants  promptly  volunteered  to  eke  out 
the  appropriation,  rather  than  have  the  Board  of  Educa- 
tion close  the  school.  Since  then  the  Kev.  Dr.  Gibson, 
(formerly  a Methodist  missionary  to  China,  and  a man  of 
great  energy  and  force),  has  started  his  Sunday-Schools, 
expecting  to  plant  them  all  over  the  Coast,  and  there 
seems  a marked  uprising  in  John’s  behalf  generally. 
True,  Mr.  Senator  Casserly,  himself  a catholic  foreigner 
and  the  negro-hating  democracy,  are  just  now  essaying 
a crusade  against  them;  but  this  is  because  the  XVth 
Amendment  has  ended  the  “ nigger,”  and  they  are  sadly 
in  want  of  political  capital.  Our  churches  have  certainly, 
now  and  here,  a noble  opportunity  for  effective  and  val- 
uable missionary  work.  Instead  of  having  to  go  half 
round  the  globe,  across  the  sea,  into  malarious  regions, 
among  Pagan  influences,  to  seek  out  the  lost  sheep  of 
the  House  of  Israel,  we  here  have  the  heathen  at  our 
back-door,  and  ought  to  unfurl  the  Banner  of  the  Cross 
to  them,  in  every  town  and  from  every  hillside.  The 
story  of  the  Yankee,  who  gave  a missionary-collector  a 
quarter  of  a dollar,  and  when  he  was  leaving  called  him 
back,  and  gave  him  a dollar  more,  “ to  send  that  quarter 


320 


LET  US  OCCUPY  IT — 


along,”  has  it  not  some  grains  of  truth  in  it  ? Here  the 
whole  dollar  and  a quarter  may  be  made  immediately 
effective,  and  our  missionary  money  should  be  forthcom- 
ing without  stint.  Not  only  would  we  thus  more  readily 
and  cheaply  evangelize  the  Chinese  on  our  shores,  but 
their  returning  thousands  in  turn  would  evangelize  their 
countrymen  at  home ; and  we  would  thus  accomplish  a 
hundredfold  more  for  China,  than  our  missionaries  there 
now  seem  to  be  doing,  judging  by  their  statistics, 
all  put  together.  And  not  only  do  our  Chinese  them- 
selves call  for  this,  but  the  harmony  and  purity  of  the 
national  life  demand  it,  and  may  our  churches  awake  to 
their  great  responsibility.  Here  is  their  true  field  for 
instant  and  aggressive  missionary  work,  and  they  should 
occupy  it  overwhelmingly. 

From  a full  survey  of  this  questio  vexata , I must 
conclude,  if  “ God  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations  of 
men  to  dwell  upon  the  earth,”  if  we  are  children  of  a com- 
mon Father,  redeemed  by  a common  Saviour,  and  bound 
for  a common  eternity ; if  the  good  old  rule,  “ whatso- 
ever ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even 
so  unto  them,”  (which  the  Chinese  had  in  a negative 
form  a thousand  years  before  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount), 
is  not  yet  effete  ; if  we  believe  with  Thomas  Jefferson, 
that  “ all  men  are  created  equal,  and  endowed  by  their 
Creator  with  the  inalienable  rights  of  life  and  liberty 
then,  we  are  bound  as  a nation  to  accord  justice  and  fair- 
play  even  to  these  poor  Mongolians,  yellow-skinned,  pig- 
tailed, and  heathen  though  they  be.  Now,  as  heretofore, 
and  always,  we  shall  find  our  reward  as  a people  in  right- 
doing. Itight  is  always  politic.  Justice  is  never  wrong. 
And  let  us  as  a nation  do  right,  even  to  the  humblest  of 
God’s  creatures,  and  leave  the  consequences  with  Him, 
who  holds  in  his  hands  the  destinies  alike  of  individuals 


FIAT  JUSTITIA. 


321 


and  of  races.  This  is  not  always  an  easy  road  ; but  the 
Bepublic  has  already  travelled  it  so  far,  and  so  coura- 
geously, we  can  not  now  afford  to  depart  from  it.  Justice, 
if  the  sky  falls.  But,  we  may  be  sure,  it  will  not  fall. 
Bather,  it  will  stand  all  the  firmer  and  broader,  for  the 
Justice  done  and  Humanity  saved. 

J4* 


CHAPTER  XX. 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  LOS  ANGELOS. 


"YXT'E  left  San  Francisco,  Feb.  9th,  on  the  good  ship 
VV  Orizaba , for  southern  California  and  Arizona. 

She  was  a first-class  side-wheel  steamer,  with  good 
accommodations,  and  belonged  to  the  California  Steam 
Navigation  Company — a corporation  that  then  monopo- 
lized or  controlled  all  the  navigable  waters  of  California, 
besides  running  coast-wise  lines  North  and  South.  She 
was  one  of  a line,  that  ran  semi-monthly  to  San  Diego 
and  return,  touching  at  Santa  Barbara  and  San  Pedro, 
and  seemed  to  be  paying  very  well.  We  might  have 
gone  southward  from  San  Francisco  to  San  Jose  by  rail- 
road, and  thence  by  stage  to  Los  Angelos  and  Fort 
Yuma;  but  our  long  stage-rides,  from  the  Missouri  to 
Salt  Lake  and  thence  to  the  Columbia,  had  worn  the 
romance  off  of  stage-coaching,  and  we  infinitely  preferred 
to  proceed  by  steamer.  It  was  a superb  day,  with  sea 
and  sky  both  “ darkly,  deeply,  beautifully  blue”  — a day 
of  the  kind  Californians  always  mean,  when  they  brag 
about  their  climate — as  we  flung  off  our  lines  at  San 
Francisco,  and  steamed  down  the  harbor  broadside  with 
the  Golden  Age  en  route  for  Panama.  We  passed  by 
Alcatraz  and  through  the  Golden  Gate  neck  and  neck, 
with  the  decks  of  both  vessels  crowded  with  excited 
passengers  ; but  once  across  the  bar,  the  Orizaba  drew 
steadily  ahead,  and  long  before  sunset  we  left  the  Golden 


A DELIGHTFUL  VOYAGE — 


323 


Age  hull  down  astern.  I don’t  say  this  was  a race, 
indeed.  Perhaps  their  leaving  together  was  quite 
accidental.  But  the  Orizaba  soon  showed  her  mettle, 
all  hands  were  eager  and  excited,  and  her  officers  were 
in  ecstacies  at  the  results. 

Once  fairly  at  sea,  our  steamer  turned  her  prow 
sharply  south,  and  all  the  way  down  followed  the  coast 
from  headland  to  headland.  Usually  we  steamed  along 
some  five  or  six  miles  off  shore,  with  the  land  itself 
always  in  view,  and  the  ocean  everywhere  like  a mill- 
pond. From  the  Columbia  to  the  Golden  Gate  in 
December,  we  had  found  the  Pacific  to  belie  its  name ; 
but  now  steaming  farther  south,  we  saw  it  in  its  calmness 
and  beauty,  and  felt  like  christening  it  anew.  Most  of 
the  way,  the  sky  was  magnificently  clear,  the  weather 
moderate,  the  air  bracing  and  stimulating,  while  the 
whole  Coast  was  a shifting  panorama  of  beauty  and 
grandeur.  The  ocean  too  smooth  for  sea-sickness,  we 
strolled  about  the  deck  by  twos  and  fours,  or  lolled  for 
hours  on  the  settees,  inhaling  life  and  vigor  at  every 
breath,  until  we  almost  seemed  to  be  navigating  fabled 
seas  or  voyaging  into  paradise.  The  Coast  itself,  never 
out  of  sight,  rose  generally  in  abrupt  hills  or  mountains, 
and  these  were  now  green  and  gold  to  their  summits. 
In  places,  whole  hillsides  seemed  alive  with  wild-flowers 
of  every  hue,  while  here  and  there  flocks  and  herds 
dotted  the  landscape  far  and  near.  Now  and  then  an 
adobe  house  gleamed  out  of  some  sheltered  nook ; but, 
as  a rule,  houses  were  infrequent,  and  trees  and  shrub- 
bery very  scarce.  A few  stunted  oaks  and  cedars  fringed 
the  ravines  here  and  there,  but  as  a forest  they  wrere 
nothing  to  speak  of.  The  Coast  Mountains  lifted  them- 
selves everywhere,  smooth  to  the  summit  as  if  shaven, 
with  no  glory  of  trees  to  shelter  or  crown  them  ; and  in 


324 


SANTA  BARBARA 


summer,  when  their  verdure  dries  up  and  blows  away, 
they  must  seem  very  bald  and  desolate. 

At  Santa  Barbara,  some  three  hundred  miles  down 
the  Coast,  we  touched  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  put  ashore 
several  passengers,  and  some  thirty  tons  of  freight. 
While  discharging  the  latter,  we  sauntered  up  into  the 
town,  and  found  it  to  be  a pleasant  place  of  some  fifteen 
hundred  inhabitants — county-seat  to  a county  of  the  same 
name.  The  buildings  were  mostly  adobe,  of  course,  and 
all  quite  old  ; but  the  town  had  an  appearance  of  com- 
fort and  respectability,  if  not  of  thrift,  and  the  few 
Americans  we  met  were  sanguine  of  its  future.  The 
Santa  Barbara  plains,  just  back  of  the  town,  consist  of  a 
broad  and  beautiful  valley,  enclosed  by  two  imposing 
mountain  ranges,  that  here  jut  obliquely  into  the  ocean, 
and  they  have  a climate  that  is  no  doubt  seldom  equalled 
even  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  As  a sanatarium,  Santa  Bar- 
bara was  already  being  much  resorted  to  by  invalids,  and 
doubtless  will  become  more  so  when  better  known. 
With  great  evenness  of  temperature  the  year  round,* 
without  either  snow  or  frost,  or  intense  heat,  the  grape, 
fig,  orange,  peach,  pomegranate,  olive,  all  flourish  here 
in  the  open  air;  and  Nature  seems  so  prodigal  of  her 
gifts,  the  Santa  Barbarans  appear  exempted  from  the 
primal  curse,  “ In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat 
bread,  etc.”  Mountain  streams  from  the  neighboring 
ranges,  they  had,  however,  trained  into  irrigating  ditches, 
and  by  these  cultivated  a considerable  breadth  of  land. 
They  said,  they  had  water  sufficient  to  irrigate  thousands 
of  acres  more,  and  needed  only  capital  and  population 
to  build  up  a prosperous  and  thriving  community.  In 
old  times — “before  the  flood,”  as  a Forty-Niner  would 
say — the  Jesuit  Fathers  had  one  of  their  most  flourishing 
* See  Appendix. 


SAN  DIEGO- 


325 


Missions  here,  and  their  old  Mission  Church  on  a plateau 
hack  of  the  town  was  still  standing,  though  now  used 
chiefly  as  a school.  Dr.  O.  formerly  of  the  Army, 
hut  now  married  to  a senorita  and  settled  at  Santa 
Barbara,  escorted  us  through  the  town,  and  after- 
wards regaled  us  with  wine  from  his  own  vineyard, 
of  an  excellent  brand.  He  pronounced  Santa  Barbara, 
with  its  fruits  and  its  flowers,  a second  paradise,  the  only 
place  fit  to  live  in — where  one  would  about  never  die — 
and  half  persuaded  some  of  us  to  the  same  way  of  think- 
ing. The  petroleum  wells  near  there,  as  yet,  had  pro- 
duced but  little  ; but  there  seemed  no  doubt  of  the  petro- 
leum being  there  in  large  quantities.  We  had  noticed 
it  floating  on  the  sea  for  miles  before  reaching  Santa 
Barbara ; and,  if  it  issues  beneath  the  sea  sufficient  for 
this  purpose,  it  ought  to  be  struck  somewhere  in  that 
vicinity  in  paying  quantities.  The  Santa  Barbarans 
by  no  means  despaired  of  doing  this  yet,  and  thus  hoped 
to  add  another  item  to  their  already  large  and  growing 
products. 

At  San  Pedro,  the  seaport  of  Los  Angelos,  a hundred 
miles  or  so  farther  down  the  Coast,  we  put  off  some  four 
hundred  tons  of  freight,  and  parted  wTith  the  bulk  of  our 
passengers.  Of  this  place,  more  hereafter.  Thence,  past 
Anaheim,  a settlement  of  German  wine-growers,  we 
steamed  on  down  a hundred  miles  farther,  and  halted 
at  last  at  Sail  Diego.  A stiff  breeze,  freshening  into 
a gale,  and  a rough  swell,  followed  us  into  San  Diego ; 
but  once  inside  the  jaws  of  the  harbor,  we  found  the 
bay  almost  unruffled,  while  all  outside  was  wild  and 
threatening.  The  harbor,  indeed,  is  quite  land-locked, 
and  after  San  Francisco  is  the  finest  on  the  Pacific 
Coast,  below  Puget  Sound.  But  a few  hundred 
yards  in  width  at  the  entrance,  it  soon  spreads  out  into 


32G 


THE  JESUITS’  MISSIONS — 


a broad  and  handsome  bajq  one  or  two  miles  wide  by  ten 
or  twelve  long,  and  with  a depth  of  water  close  in  shore 
sufficient  to  float  the  largest  vessels.  A bold  promontory 
running  obliquely  into  the  sea,  as  all  the  headlands  on 
this  coast  do,  shelters  the  harbor  perfectly  from  all  north 
and  northwest  winds,  and  contributes  much  to  make  San 
Diego  what  it  is.  In  the  old  Mexican  times,  before  the 
days  of  ’49,  San  Diego  was  a leading  Mission  on  the 
Coast,  and  the  chief  seaport  of  California,  whence  she 
shipped  wool,  hides,  etc.,  and  where  she  received  sup- 
plies. San  Francisco,  gushing  young  metropolis  now, 
was  then  only  sterile  Yerba  Buena,  and  practically 
nowhere.*  When  the  rush  of  miners  to  California  came 
in  ’49,  San  Diego  still  held  her  own  for  awhile,  quite 
courageously.  The  Panama  steamers  then  touched  here 
in  going  and  coming.  A large  city  was  projected,  and 
built — on  paper,  with  “ water-fronts,”  “ corner-lots,”  and 
the  like,  quite  in  extenso.  But  there  was  no  sufficient 
back  country — no  mines  or  agricultural  resources  to  speak 
of — to  support  a town,  and  so  in  the  end  San  Diego 
incontinently  collapsed.  Poor  Derby  of  the  engineers, 

* In  those  days,  it  appears,  the  Jesuits  had  over  a score  of  Missions 
in  California,  and  some  thirty  thousand  half  civilized-Indians  living 
in  their  communities.  Their  horned  cattle  numbered  four  hundred 
and  twenty-four  thousand  ; their  horses,  mules,  and  asses,  besides 
the  wild  ones  that  scoured  the  plains  in  troops,  sixty-two  thousand 
five  hundred  ; their  sheep,  goats,  and  swine,  three  hundred  and 
twenty-one  thousand  ; and  the  wheat,  barley,  maize,  and  other  grains 
they  raised  measured  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  thousand  five 
hundred  bushels  annually.  The  richest  in  cattle  and  horses,  and  the 
greatest  grain-producer,  was  San  Gabriel,  now  a modest  hamlet. 
Next  to  it  in  everything  else,  and  ahead  of  it  in  sheep,  was  San 
Luis  lley,  now  even  modester,  which  also  had  the  most  Indians.  The 
Mission  Dolores,  now  San  Francisco,  stood  low  on  the  list,  with  its 
five  hundred  Indians  shivering  in  the  wind  and  fog,  five  thousand 
horned  cattle,  sixteen  hundred  horses  and  mules,  four  thousand 
sheep  and  swine,  and  other  things  in  proportion. 


OLD  SAN  DIEGO — 


327 


immortal  as  John  Phoenix,  flourished  here  in  those  days, 
and  afterwards  used  to  say  in  his  own  inimitable  style, 
he  “ Thanked  heaven  his  lot  was  not  cast  in  San  Diego  ; 
it  had  been,  but  was  sold  for  taxes  !”  We  anchored  off 
the  old  wharf,  then  fallen  to  decay,  where  in  other  days 
the  Panama  steamers  had  floated  proudly,  and  after 
rowing  well  in  were  carried  ashore  on  the  shoulders  of 
Mexican  peons.  The  U.  S.  barracks  and  corral,  now 
empty  and  without  a watchman  even,  and  a score  or  so 
of  other  buildings,  were  grouped  near  the  landing,  con- 
stituting New  San  Diego ; but  the  main  town,  or  Old 
San  Diego,  was  three  miles  off  up  the  bay.  A rickety 
old  ambulance,  once  U.  S.  property,  but  long  since  con- 
demned and  sold,  carried  us  up  to  the  town,  where  we 
spent  several  hours.  Formerly  numbering  two  or  three 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  a pretty  stirring  place,  it  now 
had  only  about  two  or  three  hundred,  and  was  a good 
illustration  of  some  of  California’s  changes.  Its  build- 
ings, of  course,  were  all  one-story  adobe,  but  partly 
inhabited,  and  these  were  grouped-  about  a squalid, 
Plaza,  that  reminded  one  of  Mexico  or  Spain,  rather  than 
the  United  States.  Being  the  county-seat,  of  course,  it 
had  a court-house  and  a jail — the  one,  a tumble-down 
adobe — the  other,  literally  a cage,  made  of  boiler-iron, 
six  or  seven  feet  square  at  the  farthest.  The  day  we 
were  there  three  men  were  brought  in,  arrested  for  horse- 
stealing, or  something  of  the  sort ; but  as  the  jail  would 
accommodate  only  two — crowded  at  that — the  judge  dis- 
charged the  third,  with  an  appropriate  reprimand.  At 
least,  we  supposed  it  “ appropriate  but  as  it  was  in  Cal  - 
ifornice,  and  the  judge  a native,  we  could  make  nothing 
of  it.  In  hot  weather,  this  iron  jail-cage  must  be  a min- 
iature tophet ; but,  no  doubt,  it  remains  generally  empty. 
On  a hill  just  back  of  the  town,  commanding  it  and  the 


328 


HER  FINE  CLIMATE- 


harbor,  were  the  remains  of  Fort  Stockton,  which  our 
Jersey  commodore  of  that  name  built  and  garrisoned 
with  his  gallant  Jack-Tars,  during  the  Mexican  war,  and 
held  against  all  comers.  Beyond  it  still,  were  the  ruins 
of  the  old  Mexican  Presidio,  with  palm  and  olive  trees 
scattered  here  and  there,  but  all  now  desolate  and  forsaken. 
The  general  broken-down,  dilapidated,  “ played  out”  ap- 
pearance of  the  town,  was  certainly  most  forlorn.  And 
yet,  the  San  Diegoans,  like  all  good  Californians,  had 
still  a profound  faith  in  their  future,  and  swore  by  their 
handsome  bay  as  stoutly  as  ever.  They  knew  San  Diego 
would  yet  be  the  western  terminus  of  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railroad,  whenever  this  got  itself  built ; and  with  this, 
they  fondly  believed,  would  come  population,  prosper- 
ity, power  (the  three  great  p’s  of  modern  civilization), 
and  come  to  stay.  With  the  exception  of  a handful  of 
Americans  and  Jews,  engaged  chiefly  in  merchandizing, 
the  inhabitants  consisted  mainly  of  native  Californians, 
in  all  stages  of  impecuniosity.  Being  steamer-day,  sev- 
eral Americans — most  of  them  ex-army  officers — had  gal- 
loped in  from  their  neighboring  ranches,  some  coming 
ten  and  twenty  miles  for  this  purpose,  and  all  were  as 
hospitable  and  warm-hearted,  as  men  leading  such  a life 
usually  are.  They  laughed  and  chatted  over  their  Cali- 
fornia experiences,  predicted  great  things  for  San  Diego 
yet,  and  offered  a hundred  acres  or  more  from  their 
leagues-square  ranches,  to  any  American  who  would 
come  and  settle  among  them.  All  united  in  pronouncing 
the  climate  simply  perfect,  though  a little  warm  in  sum- 
mer ; and,  I must  say,  it  really  seemed  so,  when  we  were 
there.  They  declared  the  thermometer  never  varied 
more  than  twenty  degrees  the  year  round,  and  main- 
tained people  never  died  there,  except  from  the  knife  or 
bullet.  When  reminded  of  a Mr.  S.  who  had  died  that 


HER  SPLENDID  HARBOR 


329 


morning,  they  replied,  he  came  there  too  late — a con- 
firmed consumptive  ; otherwise,  he  would  have  got  well, 
and  in  the  end  have  shrivelled  up  and  evaporated,  like 
the  rest  of  their  aged  people. 

As  to  business,  the  town  really  seemed  to  have  none, 
except  a little  merchandizing  and  whiskey-drinking,  and 
these  only  gave  signs  of  life,  because  it  was  “steamer- 
day.”  The  country  immediately  about  the  town  was 
dull  and  barren,  from  want  of  water  to  irrigate  and 
cultivate  it.  The  great  ranches  were  at  a distance,  and 
these  depended  on  streams  from  the  Coast  Range,  that 
mostly  disappeared  before  reaching  the  harbor.  Here 
horses,  cattle,  and  sheep  were  raised  in  considerable  num- 
bers ; but  the  breadth  of  valuable  land  was  not  consid- 
ered large,  and  the  population  of  the  section  seemed  to 
be  on  the  stand-still,  if  not  decrease.  A railroad  from 
the  Atlantic  States,  and  another  north  to  San  Francisco, 
would  of  course  soon  change  all  this ; but  these  were 
yet  in  the  future.  The  splendid  harbor,  however,  is 
there — the  second  as  I have  said,  on  the  California  Coast 
— and  it  will  be  passing  strange,  if  the  future  does  not 
evolve  something,  that  will  give  it  vitality  and  impor- 
tance. Its  noble  waters,  surely,  cannot  lie  idle  forever. 
With  its  superb  anchorage  and  far-stretching  shores,  it 
seemed  already  the  prophecy  of  great  things  to  come, 
and  I sincerely  trust  the  San  Diegoans  may  speedily 
realize  them.* 

Down  by  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  were  several 
fishermen’s  huts,  whose  owners,  it  was  said,  gained  a 
precarious  living  by  whaling.  Oft*  the  harbor,  for  miles 

* Since  the  above  was  written,  I believe,  the  Panama  steamers 
have  resumed  their  calls  at  San  Diego,  and  doubtless  the  town  is 
again  looking  up.  So,  also,  the  Arizona  trade  and  travel  now  start 
mainly  from  here,  and  a railroad  to  the  Colorado  at  least  seems  inev- 
itable. 


330 


SAN  PEDRO 


up  and  down  the  coast,  we  noticed  a heavy  growth  of 
kelp  or  sea-weed,  and  this  we  were  told  the  whales 
frequented  in  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  as  a feeding 
ground.  We  kept  a sharp  lookout  for  them,  both  com- 
ing down  and  returning ; but  were  rewarded  by  seeing 
only  a single  dead  one,  which  had  been  harpooned  and 
left  floating  near  shore,  with  a buoy  attached.  Capt. 
Thorne,  of  the  Orizaba , reported  these  whales  as  quite 
numerous  off  the  coast  sometimes,  and  thought  this 
business  might  readily  be  made  much  more  lucrative, 
than  it  was. 

Here  at  San  Diego,  we  were  about  five  hundred 
miles  south  of  San  Francisco,  and  less  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  from  Fort  Yuma.  We  had  expected  to  find  a 
stage  thence  to  Fort  Yuma;  but  the  line  had  recently 
been  withdrawn,*  from  want  of  business,  and  we  were 
compelled  to  return  again  up  the  coast  to  San  Pedro  and 
Los  Angelos.  On  the  evening  of  Feb.  14th,  we  accord- 
ingly bade  good-bye  to  San  Diego,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  we  came  on  deck,  found  the  Orizaba  at  anchor 
again  off  San  Pedro.  This,  as  I have  before  said,  is  the 
old  seaport  or  landing  for  Los  Angelos,  and  all  the 
country  about  there,  whence  supplies  were  then  wagoned 
into  Arizona,  Southern  Nevada,  and  even  Utah.  The 
Salt  Lake  merchants,  then  barred  from  the  East  in 
winter  by  the  heavy  snows  on  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
were  in  the  habit  of  eking  out  their  stocks  by  purchases 
in  San  Francisco,  which  they  shipped  400  miles  down 
the  coast  to  San  Pedro,  and  from  here  wagoned  them 
via  San  Bernardino  and  Cajon  Pass,  through  Southern 
Nevada,  800  miles  more  to  Great  Salt  Lake.  Of  course, 
the  completion  of  the  Pacific  Railroad  has  changed  all 
this.  San  Pedro  itself,  unfortunately,  has  no  harbor,  but 
* See  foot-note  page  329. 


WILMINGTON  AND  GEN.  BANNING — 


331 


is  a mere  open  roadstead,  where  vessels  may  ride  at 
anchor  in  fine  weather,  but  when  storms  come  must  slip 
to  sea.  From  here  a slough  or  gut  of  the  sea  sets  up  to 
Wilmington,  some  six  miles  through  a tide-water  marsh, 
where  we  found  a Mr.  Phineas  Banning  doing  his  “ level 
best” — and  it  was  a big  “ best  ” — to  build  up  a nascent 
city.  Formerly,  everything  was  lightered  ashore  at  San 
Pedro  ; but  recently,  Mr.  Banning  had  introduced  steam- 
tugs,  and  with  these  at  high  tide  he  carried  everything  to 
Wilmington,  where  he  had  wharves,  store-houses,  shops, 
stages,  wagon-trains,  and  about  everything  else,  on  a 
large  scale.  He  was  an  enterprising  Delawarean,  but 
without  much  regard  for  “ the  eyes  of  Delaware ; ” 
had  failed  two  or  three  times,  but  was  still  wide- 
awake and  keen  for  business ; had  come  to  Califor- 
nia a common  stage-driver,  but  now  ran  lines  of  stages 
and  freight-wagons  of  his  own  all  over  southern  Cal- 
ifornia and  Arizona,  for  eight  hundred  and  a thousand 
miles ; had  married  a native  senorita,  with  several 
leagues  of  land,  and  made  her  a good  husband  ; was  now 
state  senator  on  the  Republican  side,  and  talked  of  for 
governor ; and,  in  short,  was  a good  second  edition  of 
Mr.  Ben  Holliday,  yet  without  his  bad  politics.  His 
town  of  Wilmington  consisted  of  a hundred  or  two 
frame  buildings,  in  true  border  style,  with  perhaps  five 
hundred  inhabitants,  all  more  or  less  in  his  service,  or 
employed  at  Drum  Barracks,  the  U.  S.  military  post  there. 
A man  of  large  and  liberal  ideas,  with  great  native  force 
of  character  and  power  of  endurance,  he  was  invaluable  to 
Southern  California  and  Arizona,  and  both  of  these  sec- 
tions owe  him  a debt  of  gratitude,  which  they  never  can 
repay.  His  u latch-string”  was  always  out  to  all  strangers 
in  that  latitude  ; there  was  no  public  interest  with  which 
he  was  not  prominently  identified  ; and  from  San  Pedro 


332 


A REPRESENTATIVE  AMERICAN 


to  Tucson,  and  back  again,  via  Prescott  and  Fort  Mojave, 
through  some  fifteen  hundred  miles  of  border  travel, 
there  was  scarcely  a day  in  which  we  did  not  see  his 
teams  or  stages,  or  touch  his  enterprises  somewhere. 

Here  at  Wilmington,  in  the  village  barber,  we  found 
another  good  illustration  of  the  adaptativeness  of  the 
average  American.  Originally  from  Independence,  Mo., 
he  had  emigrated  thence  to  Oregon,  thence  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  thence  to  Wilmington.  In  Missouri,  he  was 
a farmer  by  occupation  ; in  Oregon,  a cattle-drover ; in 
San  Francisco,  a teamster ; in  Wilmington,  he  was  now 
regularly  a barber,  but  occasionally  cobbled  shoes,  or 
worked  as  a blacksmith,  and  on  a pinch  also  practiced 
medicine.  He  had  not  preached,  or  edited  a newspaper 
yet ; but  doubtless  would  have  had  no  objection  to  trying 
his  hand  at  either  or  both  of  these,  should  opportunity 
ofler  or  necessity  occur ! But  such  men,  after  all, 
are  our  Representative  Americans — real  pioneers  of 
empire  and  champions  of  civilization — and  history  will 
not  forget  to  recognize  and  respect  them  accordingly. 

Back  of  Wilmington,  some  thirty  miles  wide  by  sev- 
enty-five long,  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Mountains,  stretch 
the  great  Los  Angelos  plains,  than  which  there  are  few 
finer  sights  on  the  Coast,  at  the  proper  season.  Just  now 
they  were  green  with  herbage  and  gemmed  with  wild 
flowers  in  all  directions,  from  the  Mountains  to  the 
ocean,  a perfect  sea  of  verdure,  with  flocks  and  herds  roam- 
ing over  them  at  will,  under  the  guidance  of  native 
ranclieros.  The  latter,  mounted  on  gainey  little  horses,  full- 
blooded  mustangs,  with  saddles  that  nearly  covered  their 
steeds,  and  tinkling  spurs  that  almost  swept  the  ground, 
galloped  hither  and  yon  as  occasion  needed,  or  lolled  for 
hours  on  the  ground,  basking  in  the  sun,  while  their  cat- 
tle and  sheep  fed  peacefully  about  them.  The  landscape 


LOS  ANGELOS  PLAINS 


333 


one  day,  when  Gen.  Banning  drove  us  over  to  Los  Ange- 
los, to  see  the  vineyards  and  orange-groves  there,  with 
the  Pacific  rolling  in  the  distance,  the  Mountains  tower- 
ering  before  us,  and  the  Plains  stretching  all  about  us,  in 
green  and  purple  and  gold,  was  a perfect  idyllic  scene, 
which  lingers  in  my  memory  yet,  as  one  of  the  fairest 
recollections  of  a life-time.  Just  then,  the  marshes  about 
Wilmington,  and  the  Plains  beyond,  were  a halting  place 
for  vast  flocks  of  wild-geese,  on  their  annual  migration 
north,  and  they  thronged  the  country  in  countless  thou- 
sands. Off  on  the  Plains,  where  they  were  feeding  on 
the  young  and  succulent  grass,  they  whitened  the  ground 
sometimes  for  acres,  and  were  so  careless  of  danger,  you 
might  knock  them  over  with  a club.  Gen.  Banning 
said,  they  were  even  more  numerous  in  former  years,  but 
even  as  they  were,  we  had  never  seen  anything  to  equal 
them.  As  we  drove  along,  they  rose  up  by  the  roadside 
in  flocks  of  thousands,  and  fairly  deafened  the  air  with 
their  multitudinous  konkings.  Further  on,  we  found 
the  grass  rank  and  luxuriant,  and  it  seemed  impossible 
to  believe,  that  when  summer  came,  all  this  wealth  of 
vegetation  would  wither  up,  and  substantially  blow  away. 
Yet  this  seemed  to  be  the  fact — these  .broad  and  beauti- 
ful Plains,  beneath  their  then  rainless  sky,  becoming 
everywhere  a barren  desert,  save  where  acequias  (Mexi- 
can for  a water-ditches”)  regularly  irrigate  and  vitalize 
them. 

We  struck  the  acequias  several  miles  out  from  Los 
Angelos,  and  followed  them  into  the  town,  our  road 
winding  about  among  and  crossing  them  several  times. 
The}’  are  simply  water-ditches,  four  or  five  feet  wide 
by  one  deep,  the  same  as  those  at  Salt  Lake,  but  most 
of  them  far  older.  They  were  begun  a century  ago,  by 
the  old  Spanish  Jesuits,  who  formerly  had  one  of  their 


334 


THEIR  ACEQUIAS 


largest  and  most  flourishing  Missions  here,  and  are  kept 
in  repair  and  regulated  by  the  city  corporation — the  water 
being  fanned  out,  at  fixed  rates.  Their  source  of  supply 
is  the  Los  Angelos  river,  a little  stream  that  issues  from 
the  Coast  Kange  some  miles  away,  and  sinks  again,  I 
believe,  before  reaching  the  ocean.  If  husbanded  prop- 
erly, with  the  same  care  exercised  at  Salt  Lake,  it  might 
be  made  to  irrigate  many  times  the  present  breadth  of 
land,  it  would  seem  ; but  as  it  is,  it  suffices  to  vitalize 
hundreds,  if  not  thousands,  of  acres  about  the  town, 
where  they  grow  wheat,  barley,  oats,  the  grape,  the 
orange,  the  lemon,  citron,  olive,  peach,  pear,  and  almost 
everything  else,  in  great  profusion  and  of  the  finest  char- 
acter. Along  the  road,  and  skirting  all  the  main  ace- 
quias,  willows  have  been  planted,  and  these  growing 
rapidly  serve  for  both  fencing  and  fuel.  Here  and  there 
wild  flowers  also  have  been  planted,  or  have  sprung  up 
naturally  among  the  hedges,  and  these  shower  their 
wealth  of  bloom  and  fragrance  almost  the  year  round. 
The  robin,  the  blue-bird,  the  oriole,  abounded  here  ; and 
the  whole  air  seemed  vocal  with  song,  as  wTe  whirled 
along  through  the  suburbs,  and  up  into  the  towrn. 

Los  Angelos  itself  proved  to  be  a brisk  and  thriving 
town.  It  is  the  county-seat  of  a large  county  of  the 
same  name,  and  probably  contained  then  some  five  thou- 
sand inhabitants — about  one-third  Americans  and  Euro- 
peans, and  the  balance  native  Californians  and  Indians. 
The  Americans  seemed  to  own  most  of  the  houses  and 
lands,  the  Europeans — chiefly  Jews — to  do  the  business, 
the  native  Californians  to  do  the  loafing,  and  the  Indians 
to  perform  the  labor.  It  had  mail  communication  with 
San  Francisco  twice  a wTeek  by  stage,  and  twice  a month 
by  steamer  via  San  Pedro,  and  telegraphic  communica- 
tion via  San  Francisco  with  the  wliole  coast  and  country. 


LOS  ANGELOS  ITSELF 


335 


It  boasted  two  or  three  very  fair  hotels,  a fine  old 
Spanish  church,  and  quite  a number  of  brick  and  frame 
residences,  that  would  have  been  called  creditable  any- 
where. The  town  seemed  steadily  increasing  in  wealth 
and  population,  as  more  and  more  of  the  surrounding 
Plains  were  brought  under  cultivation,  and  already  had 
a substantial  basis  for  prosperity  in  its  vineyards  and 
fruit-orchards,  aside  from  its  fiocks  and  herds.  It  was  also 
doing  a considerable  business  with  Utah,  Arizona,  and 
Southern  California,  for  all  which  regions  it  was  then 
largely  a mart  and  entrepot.  Its  climate  was  mild  and 
equable,  reminding  one  more  of  Italy  and  the  Levant, 
than  America,  and  already  it  was  quite  a resort  for 
invalids  from  all  parts  of  the  Coast.  Then  in  February, 
and  again  in  May,  when  we  returned  there  from  Arizona, 
the  air  really  seemed  like  the  elixir  of  life,  and  quickened 
every  sense  into  new  life  and  power  of  enjoyment.  As 
in  all  Spanish  American  towns,  however,  Sunday  seemed 
to  be  the  chief  day  for  business  and  pleasure.  A few 
stores  and  shops  were  closed;  but  the  majority  kept 
open,  the  same  as  any  other  day.  The  native  Cailfornian 
and  Indian  population  of  the  surrounding  country  flocked 
into  town  that  day,  in  holiday  attire  and,  after  a brief 
service  at  the  old  church  (dedicated  “To  the  Queen 
of  the  Angels,”)  assembled  in  the  Plaza,  to  witness  their 
customary  cock-fights.  There  were  several  of  these, 
which  men  and  women,  priests  and  people — alike  eager 
and  excited — all  seemed  to  enjoy ; but  to  us,  Eastern- 
bred,  they  seemed  cruel  and  barbarous.  The  poor  fowls 
pecked  away  at  each  other,  until  some  fell  dead,  and 
others  dropped  exhausted,  when  the  survivors  were 
borne  away  in  triumph. 

A ride  across  the  breezy  Plains,  ten  miles  to  the 
south,  brought  us  to  the  ranch  and  vineyard  of  Mr. 


336 


DON  BENITO  WILSON 


Ben.  D.  Wilson,  noted  over  all  the  Coast  for  his  excellent 
fruits  and  wines.  “Don  Benito  ” Wilson,  lie  is  called 
out  there,  and  the  name  is  a good  one.  Without 
much  urban  polish,  he  is  nevertheless  one  of  nature’s 
noblemen,  and  a tine  Representative  Californian.  A 
Tennessean  by  birth,  long  before  the  acquisition  of 
California,  he  had  hunted  and  trapped  across  the 
continent,  living  for  years  among  the  Utes  and  Apa- 
ches, and  finally  marrying  a California  senorita,  with 
three  leagues  square  of  land,  had  settled  down  here. 
His  noble  ranch  lies  at  the  foot  of  the  Coast  Range  of 
mountains,  with  their  snow-clad  summits  towering  above, 
the  Los  Angelos  plains  in  front  stretching  away  to  the 
ocean,  while  an  intervening  roll  of  hills  shuts  out  the 
raw  winds  and  fogs  of  the  summer  and  autumn.  Two 
or  three  dashing  rivulets,  that  issue  from  the  mountains 
like  threads  of  silver,  have  been  caught  up  and  carried 
by  acequias  all  along  the  slopes,  whence  they  are  distrib- 
uted wdierever  the  thirsty  soil  in  summer  needs  them. 
II  ere  he  has  orange,  lemon,  peach,  olive,  almond,  and 
English  walnut  groves,  by  the  many  acres,  while  beyond 
are  his  vineyards  by  the  hundred  acres — part  planted 
by  himself,  but  many  a half  century  ago  by  the  Jesuit 
Fathers.  J ust  now,  his  vineyards,  trimmed  closely  as  they 
were,  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a Delaware  or  Jersey 
field  of  old  peach-trees,  with  the  tops  sawn  off,  as  we 
sometimes  see  them  here.  Without  trellis  or  support  of 
any  kind,  these  aged  vines  stood  stiff  and  gnarled, 
in  rows  five  or  six  feet  apart,  themselves  about  as  many 
inches  thick  ; but  in  summer,  they  throw  out  runners, 
that  form  a leafy  wilderness,  loaded  down  with  the  pur- 
pling clusters.  In  addition,  he  had  great  herds  of  horses, 
and  cattle,  and  flocks  of  sheep  by  the  thousand,  that 
roamed  over  his  outlying  broad  acres  and  the  Los  Angelos 


HIS  ORANGE  GROVES  AND  VINEYARDS 337 

plains  at  will.  In  sauntering  through  his  orange-groves, 
he  showed  us  trees,  from  which  he  had  gathered  twenty- 
five  dollars’  worth  of  the  golden  fruit  each,  that  season, 
and  one  that  yielded  him  forty  dollars’  worth.  A few  of 
his  oranges,  dead  ripe,  were  still  gleaming  amid  the  rich, 
deep  green  of  their  peculiar  foliage,  and  we  had  some  of 
these  fresh  and  luscious  on  the  table  each  meal  we  took 
with  him.  In  his  wine-cellars,  back  of  the  mansion,  he 
showed  us  two  hundred  thousand  gallons  of  wine,  the 
product  of  that  year’s  vintage  alone,  and  it  hadn’t  been 
much  of  a year  for  wine  either.  This  he  reported  to  be 
worth  only  fifty  cents  a gallon  then,  but  as  increasing  in 
price,  of  course,  with  age.  He  made  both  white  and  red 
wine,  of  a superior  brand,  and  had  branch  houses  in  San 
Francisco  and  Hew  York,  that  disposed  of  the  bulk  of  it 
at  fair  figures.  It  all  had  the  peculiar  sharpness  and 
alcoholic  qualities  of  the  California  wines  generally ; 
but,  he  thought,  with  more  careful  culture,  and  increas- 
ing age,  their  wines  would  improve  in  this  respect.  lie 
computed  the  wine-product  of  California  then,  at  not  less 
than  three  millions  of  gallons  annually,  and  rapidly 
increasing.  The  Mission  grape  was  the  one  mostly 
grown,  as  yet;  but  he  thought  some  foreign  varieties, 
of  a finer  quality,  would  gradually  supplant  this.  The 
white  wines  were  the  pure  juice  of  the  grape  ; the  red  the 
same,  but  with  the  color  of  the  skins  added.  Farther 
Horth,  the  Sonoma  and  Sacramento  wines  were  lighter 
and  milder,  resembling  claret  and  hock  ; but  these  Los 
Angelos  wines  were  heavy  and  strong,  with  a body  like 
those  of  Spain,  whence  no  doubt  the  Mission  vines  ori- 
ginally came.  The  expressed  juice  was  first  put  into 
large  casks,  holding  a hundred  and  forty  gallons  or  more 
each,  whence  after  due  fermentation  it  was  bottled  and 
sent  to  market.  Fie  said  at  the  end  of  a year  and  a half, 
*5 


338 


CALIFORNIA  WINES  GENERALLY. 


the  wine  usually  became  clear  and  less  alcholic ; but  it 
continued  to  mellow  and  soften  with  age  for  twenty 
years,  when  its  delicacy  of  flavor  and  oiliness  of  consist- 
ency culminated.  Brandy  was  made  from  indifferent 
or  miscellaneous  grapes,  skins  and  all,  and  from  what  we 
saw  of  its  effects,  was  as  fierce  and.fiery  a liquid,  surely, 
as  Jersey  lightning,  or  Nebraska  needle-gun. 

Mr.  Wilson  lived  rather  plainly,  in  anything  but  a 
palatial  mansion  ; but  he  had  a fine  library,  well-selected, 
and  took  most  of  the  leading  magazines  and  newspapers, 
from  San  Francisco  to  Boston.  We  were  really  surprised 
at  the  extent  and  variety  of  his  periodical  literature.  He 
said  he  had  been  intending  for  years  to  build  himself  a 
new  house,  on  a grander  scale ; but  the  old  one  was  very 
roomy  and  comfortable,  and  he  had  never  found  time  to 
pull  it  down.  We  found  him  a very  bright  and  intelli- 
gent old  gentleman,  well  versed  in  the  world’s  affairs, 
with  an  eye  keenly  alive  to  passing  events  both  at  home 
and  abroad,  notwithstanding  his  seclusion.  He  was 
a warm  friend  of  Gen.  Banning’s;  for  they  naturally 
comprehended,  and  appreciated  each  other,  to  the  full. 

Land  just  about  Los  Angelos,  and  adjacent  to  the 
acequias,  was  held  at  a good  figure ; but  a few  miles 
from  the  town,  it  was  selling  at  only  five  and  ten  dollars 
per  acre,  and  a great  stock  or  fruit  ranch,  it  would  seem, 
could  be  built  up  here,  at  small  expense,  in  a few  years. 
The  soil  and  climate  are  certainly  all  anybody  could 
desire ; the  chief  drawbacks  seemed  to  be  the  absence  of 
good  schools  and  churches.  These,  however,  will  come 
with  time  and  sufficient  Yankees ; and  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say,  that  the  Plains  and  City  of  the  Angels  will  yet 
become  widely  known,  and  well-peopled.  California, 
rich  in  so  many  things,  may  yet  well  be  vain  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


WILMINGTON  TO  FORT  YUMA. 


'TTT'E  had  intended  to  go  by  stage  from  Los  Angelos 
VV  to  Fort  Yuma,  to  save  time,  though  we  knew  it 
would  be  a “ weariness  to  the  flesh ; ” but  the  route 
had  just  been  changed  there  from  San  Diego,  and 
as  it  would  take  a fortnight  to  transfer  the  stock,  and  get 
things  to  working  smoothly  again,  we  decided  to  pro- 
ceed by  ambulance.  To  this  end,  we  returned  to 
Wilmington,  or  Drum  Barracks,  the  military  post  there, 
whence  we  left  for  Arizona,  Feb.  19th.  Our  “ outfit,” 
furnished  by  the  quartermaster  there,  consisted  of  a 
substantial  vehicle,  half-ambulance  and  half-Jersey 
wagon,  loaned  for  the  trip  by  Gen.  Banning,  equipped 
with  four  stout  mules  and  a plucky  driver.  A fifth 
mule  was  also  added,  to  meet  contingencies ; but  this 
was  only  as  a led  mule.  The  vehicle  was  a contri- 
vance of  Gen.  Banning’s  own,  with  a boot  before  and 
behind,  capacious  boxes  under  the  seats,  pockets  for 
books  and  periodicals,  slings  for  rifles,  pistols,  etc.,  which 
he  was  accustomed  to  use  in  his  own  long  trips  through 
Southern  California  and  Arizona,  looking  after  his  widely 
extended  business.  Originally,  we  designed  using  this 
only  as  far  as  Fort  Yuma  ; but  afterwards  it  proved  to  be 
our  home  for  two  months,  through  fifteen  hundred  miles  or 
more  of  long  and  desolate  land-travel.  A gentleman  from 
San  Francisco,  connected  with  the  Post-Office  depart- 


340 


ANAHEIM 


ment,  (Hon.  B.  T.),  accompanied  me,  and  relieved  the 
tedium  of  many  an  hour  by  his  rare  wit  and  humor. 
Our  baggage  consisted  only  of  a light  valise  and  roll  of 
blankets  each,  a box  of  writing-materials  and  official 
orders,  a sack  or  two  of  barley  and  oats,  and  some  pack- 
ages of  canned  fruits  and  vegetables.  For  lodgings  and 
provisions  generally,  we  decided  to  depend  on  the 
scattered  ranches  and  stage-stations,  notwithstanding 
vague  rumors  we  would  be  likely  to  “ rough  it,”  in  doing 
so.  With  “ Adios  ! ” and  “ Good  luck  to  you ! ” from 
broad-shouldered,  big-hearted  Gen.  Banning,  we  rolled 
out  of  Wilmington  one  day  toward  noon  ; and  crossing 
numerous  sloughs  and  quicksands,  past  countless  flocks 
of  wild-geese,  arrived  the  same  evening  at  Anaheim. 

Here  we  found  quite  a settlement  of  Germans,  fresh 
from  Rhineland,  engaged  chiefly  in  wine-making.  It 
appears,  they  had  clubbed  together  in  San  Francisco, 
and  bought  a thousand  acres  of  the  Los  Angelos  Plains, 
bordering  on  the  Santa  Anna  river,  whose  waters  they 
now  used  for  irrigating  purposes.  This  they  divided 
into  twenty-acre  lots,  with  a town-plot  in  the  centre  and 
convenient  streets,  each  lot-holder  being  also  owner  of  a 
town-lot  of  half  an  acre  besides.  Here  were  some  five 
hundred  or  more  Germans,  all  industriously  engaged,  and 
exhibiting  of  course  their  usual  sagacity  and  thrift. 
They  had  constructed  acequias,  and  carried  the  hitherto 
useless  Santa  Anna  river  everywhere — around  and 
through  their  lots,  and  past  every  door ; they  had  hedged 
their  little  farms  with  willows,  and  planted  them  with 
vines,  orange,  lemon,  and  olive  trees  ; and  the  once  bar- 
ren plains  in  summer  were  now  alive  with  perpetual  foliage 
and  verdure.  Of  course,  there  had  consequently  been  a 
great  rise  in  values.  The  land  had  cost  them  only  two 
dollars  per  acre  in  1857 ; but  now  in  1867,  it  was  rated 


A BIT  OF  GERMANY 


341 


at  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  with  none  to  sell.  We 
drove  through  the  clean  and  well-kept  avenues  or  streets, 
scenting  Rhineland  on  every  side ; and,  indeed,  this 
Anaheim  itself  is  nothing  but  a bit  of  Germany,  dropped 
down  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  It  has  little  in  common 
with  Los  Angelos  the  dirty,  but  the  glorious  climate  and 
soil,  and  was  an  agreeable  surprise  every  way.  We 
halted  at  the  village-inn,  which  would  have  passed  very 
wrell  for  a Wein-Haus  in  Fatherland,  and  wTere  enter- 
tained very  nicely.  The  proprietor  was  also  the  village- 
schoolmaster,  and  his  frau  was  one  of  the  brightest  and 
neatest  little  house-keepers,  we  had  seen  on  the  Coast. 
They  gave  us  bologna  sausage  and  native  wrine  for  sup- 
per, as  well  as  excellent  tea ; and  when  bed  time  came,  we 
wrere  conducted  to  apartments  unimpeachable  every  wray. 
In  the  course  of  the  evening,  half  the  village  seemed  to 
drop  in  for  a sip  of  wine  or  glass  of  beer  (they  kept 
both,  of  course),  and  the  guest-room  became  so  thick  with 
smoke,  you  could  have  cut  it  with  a knife.  The  next 
morning  they  gave  us  some  wine  for  our  trip,  five  years 
old,  that  had  lost  much  of  its  alcoholic  properties, 
and  so  soft  and  oily,  it  w-ould  have  passed  for  tolera- 
ble Hockheimer,  or  even  Johannisberger,  almost  any- 
w’here. 

Here  we  bade  good-bye  to  civilization,  and  at  last 
were  fairly  off  for  Arizona.  The  distance  from  Wilming- 
ton to  Yuma  is  about  three  hundred  miles,  and  we 
hoped  to  make  it  in  ten  days  at  the  farthest.  We  got  an 
early  start  from  Anaheim,  and  crossing  the  Santa  Anna 
river  through  a congeries  of  quicksands  rode  all  day,  with 
the  Coast  Range  to  the  right  of  us,  and  another  serrated 
ridge  ten  or  twelve  miles  off  to  the  left,  through  what 
was  mostly  an  arid  and  sterile  plain,  though  here  and 
there  it  wTas  broken  up  into  ravines  and  “ arroyas,”  or 


I 


342  LAGUNA  GRANDE — 

dry  water- courses,  abounding  in  cottonwood  and  live- 
oaks.  Just  at  sunset,  we  crossed  a divide,  and  before  us 
lay  a sheet  of  water,  live  miles  long  by  two  wide, 
reposing  like  a sea  of  silver,  skirted  by  wide  plateaus,  and 
these  in  turn  flanked  by  outlying  ranges  of  mountains. 
This  was  Laguna  Grande,  the  pet  lake  of  all  that  region. 
Draining  a wide  extent  of  country,  it  always  remains  a 
large  body  of  water,  though  in  summer  much  of  it  dis- 
appears, and  the  balance  becomes  brackish  from  alkali. 
It  continues  palatable,  however,  for  horses  and  cattle, 
and  accordingly  here  we  found  a great  hacienda,  one  of 
the  largest  south  of  Los  Angelos.  The  proprietors  were 
two  brothers  Machado,  who  here  owned  leagues  square 
of  land,  from  the  summit  of  one  mountain  range  to  the 
other,  including  the  Laguna.  They  lived  in  a rude 
adobe  hut,  with  three  rooms,  that  no  common  laborer 
East  would  think  of  inhabiting ; but  they  numbered 
their  live-stock  by  the  thousand,  and  esteemed  their  rude 
home  a second  paradise.  They  raised  a little  barley  and 
some  beans  on  a few  acres,  bordering  on  the  lagoon  ; but 
devoted  the  great  bulk  of  their  broad  acres  to  stock- 
raising.  Senor  Dolores  Machado  met  us  at  the  door,  as 
we  drove  up ; but  as  he  could  speak  no  English,  and  we 
no  Spanish,  there  seemed  to  be  a predicament.  Before 
leaving  Los  Angelos,  wTe  had  anticipated  this,  knowing 
the  old  Mexican  or  Spanish-speaking  population  still 
prevailed  over  most  of  Southern  California  and  Arizona, 
and  had  provided  ourselves  with  a Butler’s  method  of 
learning  to  speak  Spanish  quickly,”  accordingly.  We 
had  conned  this  over  several  days,  selecting  the  phrases 
that  would  apparently  be  most  useful,  and  now  assailed 
Senor  Machado  with  everything  we  could  summon. 
Imagine  our  disgust,  when  he  looked  wild  at  our 
attempted  Spanish,  and  responded  to  every  phrase,  “No 


BUENA  VISTA  VALLEY 


343 


sabe,  Senors!  ” Our  driver,  Worth,  at  last  came  to  our 
rescue,  with  some  mongrel  Spanish  he  had  picked  up, 
when  soldiering  formerly  down  in  Arizona ; and  when 
Senor  M.  understood  we  only  wanted  entertainment  for 
the  night,  he  smilingly  replied,  “ O,  Si ! Senors ! Si ! Si ! ” 
“Yes!  Yes!”  with  true  Castilian  grace,  and  invited  us 
into  his  abode.  He  gave  us  a rough  but  substantial 
meal,  of  coffee,  frejoles,  and  mutton ; and  when  bedtime 
came,  allowed  us  the  privilege  of  spreading  our  blankets 
on  the  softest  part  of  the  only  board  floor  in  the  house. 
He  and  his  wife  occupied  a rude  bed  in  one  corner  of 
the  same  room,  while  his  brother  slept  on  one  in  another. 
There  was  not,  and  never  had  been,  a pane  of  glass  in 
the  house,  notwithstanding  they  were  such  large-landed 
proprietors.  The  breeze  stole  in  at  the  broken  shutter, 
that  closed  the  only  window  in  the  room,  and  all  night 
long  we  could  count  the  stars  through  the  dilapidated 
roof. 

Thence  to  Buena  Yista,  we  passed  through  a succes- 
sion of  small  valleys,  between  the  same  general  mountain 
ranges  before  mentioned.  Though  wanting  in  water, 
yet  these  all  had  small  streams  of  some  sort  flowing 
through  them,  which  if  carefully  husbanded  could  be 
made  to  irrigate  thousands  of  fertile  acres  all  through 
here.  Cottonwoods  occurred  frequently,  and  along  many 
of  the  bottoms  there  was  a goodly  growth  of  scrubby  live- 
oaks,  that  looked  particularly  green  and  inviting  amidst 
those  arid  landscapes.  Buena  Yista  valley  seemed  to  be 
the  outlet  of  several  others,  all  of  which  might  be  largely 
reclaimed,  with  proper  industry  and  effort.  The  soil  is 
rich,  the  water  there,  and  the  climate  matchless  appa- 
rently the  year  round.  Warner’s  Ranch  stands  in  the 
midst  of  Buena  Yista  valley,  and  consists  only  of  an 
adobe  hut  or  two,  that  answer  for  grocery  and  road-side 


344 


YILLACITO 


inn.  We  were  detained  here  a day,  by  a severe  rain 
that  set  in  at  nightfall,  just  after  our  arrival,  and  con- 
tinued for  twenty -four  hours  ; but  as  it  gave  us  and  our 
team  a bit  of  rest,  we  did  not  greatly  regret  it.  Thence 
to  Villacito,  the  valley  opened  broader  and  wider,  and 
the  grand  San  Bernardino  peak — which  day  after  day 
had  dominated  the  landscape  off  to  the  right — its  out- 
lines sharply  defined  against  that  exquisite  sky — dropped 
gradually  out  of  sight. 

Here  we  struck  the  southern  California  or  great 
Colorado  Desert,  and  thence  on  to  Yuma — one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles — we  might  as  well  have  been  adrift  on 
the  Great  Sahara  itself.  Until  we  reached  this  point, 
the  country  consisted  chiefly  of  arid  plains,  it  is  true  ; 
but  broken,  more  or  less,  into  ravines  and  valleys,  with 
some  semblance  of*  life,  or  at  least  capacity  for  support- 
ing life  hereafter,  should  sufficient  intelligence  and  labor 
ever  drift  that  way.  But  as  we  approached  the  Desert, 
all  this  ceased,  and  the  very  genius  of  desolation  seemed 
to  brood  over  the  landscape.  We  descended  into  it 
through  a narrow  rocky  canon,  so  rough  and  precipitous, 
that  T.  and  I both  got  out  and  walked  down,  leaving  the 
driver  to  navigate  the  empty  ambulance  to  the  foot,  the 
best  he  could.  Jolting  and  jumping  from  rock  to  gully, 
now  half  upset,  with  wheels  spinning  in  the  air,  and  now 
all  right  again,  he  got  down  safe  and  whole  at  last,  and 
we  augured  well  of  our  wheels  and  springs,  after  such  a 
rugged  experience. 

Quitting  Villacito,  we  found  the  road  sandy  and 
heavy,  the  air  sultry  and  hot,  and  the  nearest  water 
eighteen  miles  off  at  Carissa  Creek.  The  country  was 
one  dreary  succession  of  sand  and  gravel,  barren  peaks 
and  rocky  ridges,  with  arroyas  now  and  then,  but  no 
signs  of  humidity  anywhere.  It  was  not,  however,  such 


JACK-RABBITS  AN1)  QUAILS — 


345 


a perfect  desert,  as  we  had  anticipated  ; for  here  and 
there  were  clumps  of  chemisal,  mescal,  and  cactus,  and 
these  somewhat  relieved  the  general  dreariness  of  the 
landscape,  poor  apologies  as  they  are  for  trees  and  shrub- 
bery. The  chemisal  grows  in  clumps,  something  like 
our  alder-bushes  east,  but  with  rods  straighter  and 
slenderer,  bearing  a pale-green  leaf.  The  mescal  seems 
to  be  a bastard  variety  of  aloes,  much  similar  to  what  is 
popularly  known  as  Eve’s  Thread,  though  on  a larger 
scale.  The  Mexicans  and  Indians  distil  a villain- 
ous liquor  from  it,  which  they  also  call  “ Mescal,”  that 
is  worse  in  its  effects  than  even  fusel-oil  or  strychnine- 
whiskey.  The  cacti  appeared  to  be  of  several  varieties — 
many  the  same  as  we  have  in  conservatories  east,  but  all 
vastly  larger  here.  The  flora,  as  we  proceeded  south- 
ward, constantly  became  sparser  and  thornier;  but  the 
fauna  continued  about  the  same — the  chief  species  being 
jack-rabbits  and  California  quails  — the  latter  a very 
handsome  variety,  with  top-knots,  never  seen  east. 
The  rabbits  were  numerous,  and  the  quails  whirred 
across  our  road  in  coveys  quite  frequently,  until  we  were 
well  into  the  Desert,  when  both  mainly  disappeared.  We 
reached  Carissa  Creek,  with  its  welcome  though  brack- 
ish water,  about  2 p.  m.  ; but  as  it  was  thirty-three  miles 
yet  to  the  next  certain  water,  at  Laguna,  with  only  un- 
certain wells  between  (dug  by  the  Government),  con- 
cerning which  we  could  get  no  definite  information,  we 
concluded  to  halt  there  till  morning. 

From  there  on,  the  first  few  miles  were  about  the 
same  as  the  day  before.  Then  we  ascended  an  abrupt 
bluff,  that  looked  in  the  distance  like  an  impassable  cas- 
tellated wall,  and  suddenly  found  ourselves  on  an  elevated 
mesa  or  table-land,  the  very  embodiment  of  dreariness 
and  desolation.  On  all  sides,  it  was  a vast,  outstretched 
*5* 


3dG 


THE  COLORADO  DESERT- 


plain,  of  coarse  sand  and  gravel,  without  tree,  or  shrub, 
or  living  thing — even  the  inevitable  mescal  and  cactus 
here  disappeared.  Behind  us,  to  the  north  and  east,  there 
was  a weird  succession  of  grand  terraces  and  castellated 
mountains,  reminding  one  of  portions  of  Wyoming.  On 
our  right,  to  the  west,  the  ever-present  Coast  Range 
loomed  along  the  landscape,  barren  and  ghostly.  To  the 
south,  all  was  a dead  level,  panting  and  quivering 
beneath  the  sun,  as  he  neared  the  zenith,  except  where 
here  and  there  a heavy  mirage  obscured  the  view,  or 
vast  whirlwinds  careered  over  the  desert,  miles  away — 
their  immense  spirals  circling  upward  to  the  very  sky. 
These  last,  on  first  sight,  we  took  for  columns  of  smoke, 
so  erect  and  vast  were  they.  But  soon  they  rose  all 
along  the  southwestern  horizon,  one  after  another,  like 
mighty  genii  on  the  march,  and  our  driver  bade  us  look 
out  for  a Yuma  sand-storm.  We  had  already  here  and 
there  found  the  sand  drifted  into  ridges,  like  snow-banks, 
where  sand-storms  had  preceded  us,  and  had  heard  ugly 
accounts  of  them  before  leaving  Wilmington;  but,  for- 
tunately, we  escaped  this  one — the  whirlwinds  keeping 
awajr  to  the  southwest,  where  they  hugged  the  Coast 
Range,  and  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  obscured  the 
whole  landscape  there.  This  was  now  the  Colorado  or 
Yuma  Desert  in  earnest,  without  bird,  or  beast,  or  bush, 
or  sign  of  life  anywhere — nothing,  in  fact,  but  barrenness 
and  desolation,  as  much  as  any  region  could  well  be. 
A large  portion  of  it  is  so  low,  that  the  overflow  of  the 
Colorado  often  reaches  it  during  spring  freshets,  and 
remains  for  weeks.  In  travelling  over  this  portion,  now 
baked  dry  and  hard  beneath  the  sun,  we  had  frequent 
exhibitions  of  mirage,  on  a magnificent  scale.  One  day 
in  particular,  we  had  been  driving  since  early  morning, 
over  a heavy  sandy  road,  with  the  sun  blazing  down  upon 


THE  LAGUNA — 


347 


ns  like  a ball  of  fire,  with  no  water  since  starting,  our 
poor  mules  panting  with  heat  and  thirst,  when  long  after 
noon  we  observed — apparently  a mile  or  so  ahead — what 
seemed  like  a great  outspread  pond  or  lake,  with  little 
islands  here  and  there,  their  edges  fringed  with  bushes, 
whose  very  images  appeared  reflected  in  the  water.  The 
scene  was  so  perfect,  that  the  driver  and  T.  both  insisted 
it  must  be  water ; however,  I inclined  to  believe  it  mi- 
rage, as  it  afterwards  turned  out,  but  the  optical  illusion 
was  so  complete  in  this  and  other  instances,  that  when 
later  in  the  day  we  really  did  approach  a veritable  sheet 
of  water  at  the  Laguna,  we  all  of  us  mistook  this  for 
mirage  also.  Here,  however,  we  found  a body  of  water 
a mile  long  by  half  a mile  wide,  surrounded  by  a rank 
growth  of  coarse  grass,  and  covered  with  water-fowl — 
a perfect  oasis  in  the  desert.  This  was  also  apart  of  the 
overflow  of  the  Colorado,  there  being  a depression  in 
the  Desert  just  here,  which  holds  the  water  like  a cup. 
The  quantity  is  so  large,  that  it  lasts  for  two  seasons ; 
but  after  that,  is  apt  to  dry  up,  if  the  overflow  does  not 
come.  But  as  this  usually  happens  every  year,  this 
Laguna  (Spanish  for  lagoon  or  lake)  becomes  a perfect 
god-send  to  the  traveller  here.  On  its  southern  margin, 
a Mr.  Ganow  from  Illinois  had  established  a ranch,  and 
already  was  acquiring  a comfortable  home.  His  horses 
and  cattle  found  ample  subsistence  in  the  brakes,  on  the 
borders  of  the  lagoon,  and  the  passing  travel  to  and  from 
California  and  Arizona  made  him  considerable  patronage 
in  the  course  of  the  year. 

Thence  past  Alamo  to  Pilot  Knob,  where  we  rounded 
the  corner  of  the  mountains,  and  struck  the  valley 
proper  of  the  Colorado,  the  country  continued  more  or 
less  an  unbroken  desert.  The  roads  were  heavy  and 
dusty,  the  air  hot  and  stifling,  the  landscape  barren  and 


348 


ALAMO — PILOT  KNOfc 


monotonous ; and  when,  at  last,  wre  made  Pilot  Knob 
and  struck  the  river,  eight  or  ten  miles  below  Fort  Yuma, 
wre  rejoiced  heartily,  that  the  first  stage  of  our  tour  wTas 
so  nearly  over.  The  Colorado  flowed  by  our  side,  red 
and  sluggish,  but  of  goodly  volume ; the  breeze  came  to 
us  cool  and  moist  across  its  broad  bosom  ; and  as  we 
neared  the  post,  the  garrison-flag  floating  high  in  air 
seemed  to  beckon  us  onwrard,  and  welcome  us  beneath  its 
folds.  Starting  long  before  daylight,  and  lying  by  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  we  had  driven  fifty-three  miles 
that  day,  over  a country  that  equals,  if  it  does  not  sur- 
pass Bitter  Creek  itself  (see  p.  150-3) ; and  when  at  last 
we  drew  rein  at  Fort  Yuma,  we  were  thoroughly  jaded 
ourselves,  and  our  poor  animals  quite  fagged  out.  We 
had  made  the  distance  from  Wilmington  in  nine  driving 
days,  instead  of  ten  ; but  they  seemed  the  longest  we  had 
ever  driven. 

Of  the  intervening  country  as  a whole,  especially 
from  Villacito,  it  may  justly  be  said,  not  only  is  it  prac- 
tically a desert,  but  even  what  streams  it  has  seem  to  be 
slowly  but  surely  disappearing.  There  were  evidences 
frequently,  that  the  country  had  formerly  been  much  better 
watered  than  now,  and  the  population — sparse  as  it  was — 
appeared  to  be  diminishing.  After  leaving  Anaheim, 
there  was  only  a scattered  ranch  here  and  there,  every  ten 
or  twelve  miles  apart,  of  the  rudest  character — sometimes 
not  even  these — where  coarse  groceries,  canned  fruits  and 
vegetables,  and  whiskey  and  mescal,  were  kept  for  sale  to 
Indians  and  passing  travellers.  These  had  mostly  been 
stage-stations  on  the  great  Butterfield  Overland  Boute 
before  the  war,  and  when  this  broke  that  up,  these 
ranchmen  still  remained,  hoping  something  would  “turn 
up.”  The  station  at  Carissa  Creek  was  a good  repre- 
sentative of  this,  and  likewise  of  many  others.  “ Carissa 


CARISSA  CREEK — 


349 


Creek  ” itself  is  one  of  southern  California’s  “ blind  ” 
streams,  like  so  many  in  Arizona,  beginning  and  ending 
nowhere  in  particular — without  either  source  or  mouth 
apparently.  Issuing  from  a sand-heap,  it  terminates  in 
another  a few  miles  away  ; but  just  here  at  the  sta- 
tion is  a shallow  creek — a few  yards  wide,  by  six  inches 
deep — tainted,  of  course  with  alkali.  The  station  itself 
is  the  adobe  remains  of  an  old  stage-station,  whose  roof 
was  all  gone,  and  as  a substitute  the  enterprising  pro- 
prietor had  thrown  some  poles  across,  and  covered  them 
with  willows  and  coarse  grass.  This  turned  the  sun 
somewhat,  and  the  easy-going  proprietor  said,  “ ’Twer’nt 
no  use,  no  how,  to  roof  agin  rain ; ’cause,  you  bet,  stran- 
ger, no  rain  ever  gits  yer ! ” His  forlorn  structure,  part 
of  which  was  used  for  a chicken-roost,  also  served  its 
owner  as  bar-room,  grocery,  kitchen,  parlor,  bed-room, 
etc.,  and  yet  contained  only  one  rude  apartment,  alto- 
gether. 

“ Mine  host”  here  was  a Texan,  who  somehow  had 
strayed  away  out  here,  and  dropped  down  at  Carissa 
Creek — he  hardly  knew  how.  He  “ didn’t  think  it  much 
of  a place,  that’s  a fact ; no  how,  stranger ! But  then, 
you  see,  I'm  yer ; and  it’s  a heap  of  trouble  to  move 
elsewhar ! Besides,  yer  know,  I couldn’t  recommend 
nobody  else  to  buy  me  out,  no  how  ! Somebody  has  got 
to  live  at  Carissa  Creek,  anyhow  ; and  why  not  me  \ ” 
His  philosophy,  under  the  circumstances,  seemed  deli- 
cious, worthy  of  Mr.  Mark  Tapley  himself,  and,  of  course, 
we  had  not  the  heart  to  disturb  it. 

For  meals  and  lodgings  en  route , we  did  indeed  have 
to  “ rough  it  ” pretty  generally,  nearly  everywhere — 
especially  after  passing  Villacito.  Salt  pork  fried,  sale- 
ratus  biscuit  hot,  and  coffee  plain,  came  again  into  vogue, 
as  in  the  famous  Bitter  Creek  region ; but  we  supple- 


350 


DIEGANO  INDIANS — 


merited  them  this  time  with  some  excellent  canned 
fruits  and  vegetables,  that  we  had  the  foresight  to  bring 
along.  Our  evenings  usually  ended  in  long  u yarns,”  after 
which,  spreading  our  blankets  in  the  hay-corral,  or  on  a 
sand-heap,  we  went  cosily  to  sleep  beneath  the  stars.  We 
always  slept  with  our  revolvers  under  our  heads,  and  our 
rifles  by  our  sides ; and  though  a bit  nervous  sometimes 
when  we  reflected  how  much  we  were  at  the  mercy  of 
the  rough  customers  we  met  en  route , yet  we  slept  well, 
and  went  through  safelv. 

At  Porte  de  la  Cruz,  before  reaching  the  Desert,  we 
passed  an  Indian  village ; but  they  all  seemed  quiet  and 
peaceable.  They  belonged  to  the  Dieganos,  a tribe 
extending  from  the  Coast  Range  to  the  Colorado,  and 
wandering  over  much  of  the  country  we  had  passed 
through.  A score  or  more  of  them  lay  basking  in  the 
sun,  as  we  drove  by,  and  they  seemed  to  be  about  as 
helpless  and  idiotic  a people,  as  human  nature  could  well 
furnish.  They  are  said  to  subsist  chiefly  on  snakes, 
lizards,  grasshoppers,  mescal,  etc.,  and  appeared  to  be 
worse  off  than  any  Red  Skins  we  had  encountered  }7et. 
At  Laguna,  in  the  midst  of  the  Desert,  we  chanced 
upon  another  party  of  them.  As  we  drove  up  to  Mr. 
Ganow's,  the  station-keeper  there,  we  observed  quite  a 
crowd  of  them  running  around  the  corner  of  the  lagoon, 
and  making  for  the  station.  We  supposed,  at  first,  that 
our  arrival  was  the  sensation  that  attracted  them  ; but  as 
they  drew  nearer,  we  saw  they  were  angry  and  excited, 
and  Mr.  Ganow  presently  explained,  that  one  of  them 
had  been  robbed  of  a knife  and  a silver  dollar  by  a white 
man  at  Indian  Wells — some  four  miles  farther  on — and, 
when  afterwards  he  remonstrated,  the  white  man  had  tied 
him  up  and  flogged  him.  The  poor  wretch,  still  bruised 
and  bleeding,  now  came  with  twenty  or  thirty  of  his 


A BORDER  OUTRAGE — • 


351 


comrades,  from  their  camp  beyond  the  Laguna,  to  Mr. 
Ganow — to  report  the  outrage  and  seek  redress.  Ganow 
said  the  white  man  referred  to  was  a mean  fellow,  bad 
enough  for  anything,  who  made  a living  chiefly  by 
gambling  with  the  Indians,  and  selling  them  mescal  and 
needle-gun  whiskey,  and  that  he  kept  the  countryside  in 
a constant  turmoil.  He  advised  his  copper-colored  friends 
to  return  to  the  Wells,  and  demand  their  property  again, 
and  say  a U.  S.  officer  was  at  his  ranch,  and  would  be 
along  next  day  and  look  after  him,  if  he  did  not  give  it 
up.  This  seemed  to  satisfy  them,  and  they  all  started 
off  on  a long  trot,  kicking  a ball  before  them  as  they 
ran,  and  were  soon  out  of  sight.  One  of  them,  rejoicing 
in  the  name  of  Charley,  was  dressed  in  cast-off  army- 
clothing, and  spoke  broken-English  pretty  well.  W e gave 
him  a handful  of  cigarritos  and  matches,  in  return  for 
his  broken  talk,  and  he  went  trotting  off  with  the  rest. 

That  night  we  spread  our  blankets  as  usual,  in  the 
corral,  at  the  foot  of  a hay-stack,  and  before  going  to 
sleep  fell  to  talking  about  this  affair,  and  its  possible  con- 
sequences— perhaps  even  to  Ganow  and  his  family  them- 
selves. He  had  a smart  wife  and  two  bright  children, 
and  it  seemed  strange  a man  like  him  would  expose 
them  thus,  in  such  a remote  and  dangerous  locality. 
From  this  we  strayed  to  other  topics,  and  talked  far  into 
the  night,  as  was  often  our  wont  on  this  trip — the  stars 
were  so  brilliant,  and  the  night-air  so  inviting.  Hear 
midnight,  while  T.  was  spinning  one  of  his  longest  yarns, 
and  I was  lazily  listening — on  my  back,  with  my  hands 
under  my  head,  and  knees  at  an  angle — suddenly  an  In- 
dian, half  naked,  loomed  up  just  at  our  feet,  with 
bow  and  arrows  in  hand,  and  a revolver  at  his  waist. 
To  seize  my  Spencer  was  the  work  of  an  instant,  and 
the  next  I demanded  : 


S52 


A RISKY  ADVENTURE 


“ Who’s  there  ? What  do  you  want  this  time  of 
night  ? ” 

T.  stopped  talking,  and  quickly  fished  up  his  revolver 
from  the  hay,  not  seeing  the  Red  Skin  till  after  I chal- 
lenged him.  Back  jumped  the  Indian,  exclaiming  excit- 
edly : 

“ Ugh  ! ISTo  shoot ! Me  friend  ! Me  Charley  ! ” 

“ Well,  what  are  you  doing  here  at  this  hour  ? What 
do  you  want  now  ? ” 

“ Me  been  down  to  Indian  Wells.  ’Tother  fellow 
got  him  knife  and  dollar.  Good  ! Dieganos  much  friend 
to  Gen-e-ral.  Heap ! ” 

“ Well,  then,  Charley,  why  don’t  you  go  home,  with 
the  others  ? What  are  you  loafing  here  for  ? ” 

Me  been  playin'  cards,  till  now ! Charley  gamble  a 
heap!  Mucho!  Omuimucko!  Lost  all.  Coat,  hat,  shirt, 
all  gone.  Me  beggar  now  ; got  nothing.  Charley  want 
Gen-er-al  and  fat  friend  (T.  was  a little  stout)  give  him 
one  dollar.  Win  urn  all  back,  quick  ! Heap  more  ! ” 

We  pitied  the  poor  fellow,  but  bade  him  leave  till 
morning.  He  still  lingered,  reluctant  to  go,  but  pres- 
ently walked  blowly  off  muttering  to  himself,  and  we 
both  became  uneasy,  as  we  knew  there  were  a hundred 
savages  close  within  his  call.  However,  after  lying 
awhile  undisturbed,  we  concluded  there  was  no  use  bor- 
rowing trouble,  and  T.  agreed  to  keep  watch,  if  I would 
try  to  sleep.  Once  or  twice  he  woke  me  up  with  a “ hist,” 
and  we  fancied  we  heard  the  stealthy  tread  of  Red 
Skins  about  us ; but  none  molested  us,  and  morning 
broke  at  last  much  to  our  relief.  We  breakfasted  and 
were  off  too  early  for  Indian  habits,  so  that  Charley  missed 
his  u dollar,”  after  all ; but  we  left  him  a plentiful  supply 
of  matches  and  “ smoke-tobacco,”  which  doubtless  served 
him  far  better.  This  experience,  altogether,  was  rather 


LIBERALS  VS.  IMPERIALISTS 


353 


exciting  at  the  time ; and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that 
our  friend  Charley  just  escaped  getting  a bullet  or  two 
through  him. 

As  to  travel,  we  met  but  little,  and  this  was  chiefly 
Mexicans  en  route  to  California.  At  Carissa  Creek,  as 
we  drove  up,  we  found  quite  a party  of  these,  resting 
there  during  the  heat  of  the  day.  The  men  were  loung- 
ing about  the  station,  or  sleeping  in  the  sand ; the 
women,  washing  clothes  in  the  little  creek.  Their  ani- 
mals— a heterogeneous  herd  of  horses,  mules,  and  bron- 
chos— were  browsing  by  the  roadside,  on  chemisal,  mes- 
cal, or  whatever  they  could  pick  up.  The  entire  party 
consisted  of  imperialists,  who  were  now  fleeing  from  the 
vengeance  of  the  just  triumphant  liberals  in  Sonora. 
When  Maximilian  first  came,  the  liberals  had  to  leave  ; 
but  now  Juarez  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  the  imperial- 
ists had  Hobson’s  choice  of  emigration  or  the  halter. 
Our  host  there  said,  that  in  the  past  four  months  about 
twelve  hundred  imperialists  had  passed  California- ward, 
while  during  the  same  period  only  about  two  hundred 
liberals  had  returned  Sonora- ward  ; so  that  California 
seemed  to  be  the  gainer,  by  this  exodus.  We  essayed 
some  talk  with  the  party,  in  our  hobbling  Spanish,  which 
daily  improved,  and  one  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader 
responded,  as  follows : 

u Si,  Senor ! Imperialists  we,  all ; Maximiliani ! 
Sonora  no  good  place  for  imperialists  now,  Jesu,  no! 
Liberals  just  take  one  knife,  this  way  (and  he  drew  his 
hand  significantly  across  his  throat)  ; or  one  lariat,  this 
way  (and  he  twirled  his  fingers  around  his  head) ; or  else, 
one  carabina — bang!  Carahu!  We  vamose  to  Califor- 
nia ! ” 

He  said  this,  with  such  wild  grimaces  and  mad  ges- 
ticulations, as  only  a Mexican  can  achieve  ; and  presently, 


354 


INSIDE  VS.  OUTSIDE. 


to  our  delight,  the  whole  banditti  cut-throat  looking 
crew  moved  off,  with  a friendly  chorus  of  “ Adios ! 
Senors  ! Adios  ! 55 

The  few  Americans  we  met  en  roicte — but  a handful 
— all  reported  themselves  as  going  “ inside,5'  and  smiled 
at  us  bound  “outside.55  By  inside , of  course,  they 
meant  California  and  civilization ; by  outside , Arizona 
and  something  else ! Of  all  the  Borderisms  we  had 
heard  yet,  these  seemed  the  strangest,  until  we  got  well 
“ outside 55  ourselves,  and  thoroughly  comprehended 
them  ; and  then  they  appeared  the  aptest,  indeed,  of  any. 
How  much  so,  this  chapter  suggests  in  part  already ; 
and  others  will  further  disclose,  when  we  get  well  into 
Arizona.  “ Inside55  and  paradise,  “ outside55  and  purga- 
tor}7 — these  were  the  opposing  ideas  constantly  expressed, 
and  we  learned  not  to  wonder  at  them. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


FORT  YUMA  TO  TUCSON. 

FORT  YUMA  is  popularly  believed  to  be  in  Arizona, 
but  is  in  reality  in  the  extreme  southeastern  corner 
of  California.  The  fort  itself  stands  on  a high  bluff,  on 
the  west  bank  of  the  Rio  Colorado,  which  alone  separates 
it  from  Arizona,  and  is  usually  occupied  by  two  or  three 
companies  of  U.  S.  troops.  Directly  opposite,  on  the 
east  bank  of  the  Colorado,  stands  Arizona  City,  a 
straggling  collection  of  adobe  houses,  containing  then 
perhaps  five  hundred  inhabitants  all  told.  Here  and  at 
Yuma  are  located  the  government  store-houses,  shops, 
corrals,  etc.,  as  the  grand  depot  for  all  the  posts  in 
Arizona.  Hence,  considerable  business  centres  here; 
but  it  is  chiefly  of  a military  nature,  and  if  the  post  and 
depot  were  removed,  the  “ City  ” as  such  would  speedily 
subside  into  its  original  sand-hills.  Being  at  the  junction 
of  the  Gila  and  Colorado,  where  the  main  route  of  travel 
east  and  west  crosses  the  latter,  it  is  also  the  first  place 
of  any  importance  on  the  Colorado  itself ; and  hence 
would  seem  to  be  well  located  for  business,  if  Arizona 
had  any  business  to  speak  of.  The  distance  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Colorado  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles, 
whence  a line  of  schooners  then  connected  with  San 
Francisco  two  thousand  miles  away  via  the  Gulf  of 
California.  From  the  head  of  the  Gulf,  light-draught 
stern-wheel  steamers  ascend  the  Colorado  to  Yuma,  and 


356 


THE  RIO  COLORADO- 


occasionally  to  La  Paz,  and  Fort  Mojave  or  Hardyville — 
one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  three  hundred  miles,  farther 
up  respectively.  Sometimes  they  had  even  reached  Call- 
ville,  some  six  hundred  miles  from  the  Gulf,  but  this 
was  chiefly  by  way  of  adventure,  as  there  was  no  popula- 
tion or  business  suflicient  to  justify  such  risks  ordinarily. 

The  Rio  Colorado  itself,  or  the  great  Red  River  of  the 
west,  although  rising  even  beyond  Fort  Bridger,  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  continent,  and  draining  with  its 
tributaries  the  whole  western  slope  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains for  two  thousand  miles,  was  yet  pronounced  an 
unnavigable  stream,  after  the  first  few  hundred  miles, 
and  rather  a hard  river  to  navigate  even  that  distance. 
Much  of  the  way  it  runs  through  a comparatively  rain- 
less region  in  summer,  and  the  last  few  hundred  miles  it 
ploughs  its  course  along  through  a sandy  alluvium,  where 
its  channel  is  constantly  shifting,  and  sand-bars  every- 
where prevail.  The  tiny  river-steamers  reported  the 
channel  never  in  the  same  place  for  a week  together, 
and  they  always  tied  up  when  night  came,  for  fear  of 
running  ashore  or  grounding  in  the  darkness.  The 
current,  moreover,  was  usually  very  swift ; so  that 
between  the  sand  and  water  together,  voyaging  on  the 
Colorado  was  regarded  generally  as  a slow  kind  of  busi- 
ness. These  boats  usually  took  from  three  days  to  a 
week,  to  make  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  from  the 
mouth  of  the  river  to  Arizona  City,  and  from  ten  to 
twenty  days  more  to  ascend  to  Hardyville — three  hun- 
dred miles  farther — whence,  however,  they  descended 
to  the  Gulf  again,  with  water  and  sand  both  to  help 
them,  in  a tithe  of  the  time.  In  all,  there  were  three 
boats  then  on  the  Colorado,  supported  chiefly  by  a 
contract  they  had  to  transport  government  stores.  W ith- 
out  this,  there  was  not  enough  travel  or  freight,  appa- 


COSTLY  TRANSPORTATION 


357 


rentlv,  to  keep  even  one  running,  though  it  was  hoped 
the  development  of  mines  in  Arizona  would  soon  make 
business  more  brisk. 

As  a means  of  a water  communication,  from  the  Gulf 
of  California  into  the  very  heart  of  the  continent,  it  would 
seem,  that  this  great  river  ought  to  have  become  more 
useful  to  cizilization,  than  it  has.  But  the  difficulties 
of  navigating  it,  even  to  Callville,  were  reported  great ; 
and  beyond  that,  was  the  insuperable  obstacle  of  the 
Big  Canon  of  the  Colorado,  which  nobody  then  knew 
anything  about,  except  as  a geographical  mystery,  but 
which  Prof.  Powell  has  since  explored  so  gallantly.  At 
Yuma,  the  river  was  a turbid,  rolling  flood,  broad  and 
deep ; and,  judging  by  what  we  saw  of  it  there,  it  would 
seem,  that  steamers  of  proper  draught  and  build  ought 
to  be  able  to  stem  its  current,  and  be  of  great  service 
hereafter  to  all  the  upper  country.  The  rates  then  cur- 
rent on  the  river  wrere  as  follows  : From  the  mouth  of 

the  Colorado  to  Yuma  or  Arizona  Cityr,  150  miles,  twenty- 
dollars  per  ton,  coin ; to  La  Paz,  300  miles,  forty  dollars 
per  ton  ; to  Fort  Mojave  or  Hardyville,  450  miles,  sixty 
dollars  per  ton.  The  rates  from  San  Francisco  to  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  some  2000  miles,  were  then  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  dollars  per  ton,  coin,  besides ; so  that 
every  load  of  freight  put  down  at  Arizona  City  or 
Hardyville,  cost  say  thirty-five  dollars  and  seventy-five 
dollars  per  ton,  coin,  respectively,  for  transportation 
alone.  This  may  have  been  good  business  for  the  trans- 
portation companies ; but  it  was  death  to  mining,  and 
other  private  enterprises,  and  operated  practically  as  a 
prohibition  to  business,  over  most  of  the  country  there, 
It  made  Arizona  substantially  inaccessible,  to  population 
and  trade,  by  this  route  (and  there  was  no  other  so 
advantageous),  and  the  whole  country  was  hoping  against 


358 


A YUMA  SAND-STORM— 


hope,  with  prayers  without  ceasing,  for  a sometime  on- 
coming railroad. 

March  2d,  while  still  at  Arizona  City,  inspecting  the 
depot  there,  wre  saw  something  of  a Yuma  sand-storm. 
The  whirlwinds  we  had  observed  in  the  distance,  when 
crossing  the  Colorado  Desert  a day  or  two  before,  seemed 
to  have  been  only  its  precursors.  It  struck  Yuma  on 
the  2d,  and  promised  to  be  only  a passing  blow,  lulling 
away  at  eventide  ; but  on  the  3d,  it  resumed  its  course, 
with  increased  violence,  and  all  day  long  rolled  and 
roared  onward  furiously.  We  had  heard  much  of  these 
Yuma  sand-storms,  and  on  the  whole  were  rather  glad 
to  see  one,  disagreeable  as  it  proved.  The  morning 
dawned,  hot  and  sultry,  without  a breath  of  air  any- 
where. Along  about  9 a.  m.,  the  wind  commenced 
sweeping  in  from  the  Desert,  and  as  it  increased  in  power 
uplifted  and  whirled  along  vast  masses  of  sand,  that 
seemed  to  trail  as  curtains  of  tawny  gossamer  from  the 
very  sky.  As  yet,  it  was  comparatively  clear  at  Yuma, 
and  we  could  see  the  sweep  and  whirl  of  the  storm  off 
on  the  Desert,  as  distinctly  as  the  outlines  of  a distant 
summer  shower.  But,  subsequently,  the  Desert  itself 
seemed  to  be  literally  upborne,  and  sweeping  in,  on  the 
wings  of  the  wind.  The  heavens  became  lurid  and 
threatening.  The  sun  disappeared,  as  in  a coppery  fog. 
The  landscape  took  on  a yellowish,  fiery  glare.  The 
atmosphere  became  suffocating  and  oppressive.  Towards 
noon,  the  wind  rose  to  a hurricane ; the  sand,  if  possible, 
came  thicker  and  faster,  penetrating  into  every  nook  and 
cranny  ; the  air  became  absolutely  stifling,  until  neither 
man  nor  beast  could  endure  it  passably.  People  kept 
within  doors,  with  every  window  closed,  and  animals 
huddled  in  groups  with  their  noses  to  the  ground,  as  if 
the  only  place  to  breathe.  As  night  approached,  the 


FORT  YUMA  ITSELF— 


359 


tempest  gradually  ceased,  as  if  it  had  blown  itself  out ; 
but  it  followed  us  on  a minor  scale,  for  a day  or  two 
afterwards,  as  we  journeyed  up  the  Gila.  The  ill-defined 
horror,  and  actual  suffering  of  such  a day,  must  be  expe- 
rienced to  be  appreciated.  Out  on  the  Desert,  in  the  midst 
of  the  storm,  the  phenomenon  no  doubt  would  amount 
much  to  the  same  thing  as  the  simooms  of  the  Sahara. 
Travellers  or  troops  caught  in  these  sand  storms  have  to 
stop  still,  and  instances  are  not  rare  where  persons  have 
lost  their  lives,  in  attempting  to  battle  with  them.  They 
obliterate  all  signs  of  a road,  where  they  actively  prevail, 
whirling  the  sand  into  heaps  and  ridges,  like  New  Eng- 
land snow-drifts ; and  the  next  travellers,  who  chance 
along,  have  either  to  go  by  the  compass,  or  employ  a 
guide,  who  understands  the  lay  of  the  mountains,  and 
country  generally.  Col.  Crittenden,  of  the  32d  Infantry, 
who  crossed  the  Desert  with  a portion  of  his  command 
some  time  after,  was  detained  two  days  by  such  a storm, 
and  his  men  suffered  greatly,  especially  for  wrant  of  water. 

These  sand-storms,  it  appears,  are  pretty  much  the 
only  storms  they  ever  get  at  Yuma,  and  they  would  not  be 
unwilling  there  to  dispense  with  even  these.  In  the  spring 
and  summer,  they  frequently  prevail  there,  sweeping  in 
from  the  south  and  southwest,  and  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say,  that  they  are  simply  execrable.  They  have  done 
much  to  make  the  name  of  Fort  Yuma  proverbial  on  the 
Pacific  Coast,  as  the  hottest  place  in  the  Union ; and  in 
San  Francisco  there  was  a story  current  about  a soldier, 
who  died  at  Yuma  in  a customary  spree,  and  of  course 
went  to  tophet.  Subsequently,  however,  the  story  ran, 
his  ghost  came  back  for  his  blankets,  because  as  alleged 
he  had  found  the  climate  there  much  colder  than  Yuma — 
a sort  of  Alaska  to  California ! The  Post  stands  on  a 
high  gravel  bluff,  facing  to  the  east  and  south,  exposed  to 


360 


THE  YUMA  INDINAS 


the  blazing  snn  throughout  the  day  ; and,  consequently, 
becoming  saturated  through  and  through  with  heat, 
retains  it  for  months  together.  Hence,  in  the  summer 
months,  for  weeks  together,  the  thermometer  there  ranges 
from  100°  to  125°  in  the  shade,  and  the  chief  end  of  the 
garrison  becomes  an  effort  to  keep  cool,  or  even  tolerably 
so.  A tour  of  duty  there  was  commonly  regarded  on  the 
Coast,  as  a kind  of  banishment  to  Botany  Bay  ; and  yet 
we  found  the  officers  a very  clever  set  of  gentlemen,  and 
spent  some  days  there  quite  delightfully.  Col.  W.,  the 
commandant,  proved  to  be  an  old  acquaintance  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac ; and  Dr.  J.,  the  surgeon,  an  old 
school-mate. 

The  Post  here  was  established  about  1857  to  overawe 
the  Yumas,  then  a stalwart  and  numerous  tribe  of  Indians, 
occupying  both  banks  of  the  Colorado  for  a hundred 
miles  or  more.  Though  much  reduced,  they  still  num- 
bered over  a thousand  souls ; and  physically  speaking,  were 
the  finest  specimens  of  aborigines  we  had  seen  yet. 
They  cultivate  the  river-bottoms  to  some  extent,  and 
raise  barley,  wheat,  beans,  melons  etc. — for  their  surplus 
of  which,  when  any,  they  find  a ready  market  at  Fort 
Yuma  and  Arizona  City.  Some  chop  wood  for  the 
river -steamers,  and  others  indeed  we  found  employed 
on  the  steamers  themselves,  as  deck-hands,  firemen,  etc. 
Altogether,  these  Yumas  seemed  to  have  more  of  the 
practical  about  them,  than  any  savages  wTe  had  met  yet, 
and  no  doubt  they  might  be  saved  to  the  race  for  gene- 
rations to  come,  wrere  proper  efforts  made  to  protect  and 
care  for  them.  They  had  been  peaceable  for  years,  and 
scores  of  them  thronged  the  Post  and  the  depot,  every 
day  we  were  there.  The  men  wore  only  a breech-cloth, 
with  long  ends  fluttering  fore  and  aft  ; the  women  but 
little  more,  though  some  of  them  affected  a rude 


OLD  PASQUOL 


361 


petticoat.  Both  sexes,  as  a rule,  were  naked  from  the 
waist  up,  and  many  of  each  were  superb  specimens  of 
humanity ; but  all  seemed  corrupted  and  depraved, 
by  contact  with  the  nobler  white  race.  The  open 
and  unblushing  looseness  and  licentiousness  of  the 
riff-raff  of  Arizona  City,  with  these  poor  Indians,  was 
simply  disgusting,  and  it  is  a disgrace  to  a Christian 
government  to  tolerate  such  orgies,  as  frequently  occur 
there,  under  the  very  shadow  of  its  flag.  Great  blame 
attaches  to  the  army,  in  former  years,  for  ever  admitting 
these  poor  creatures  within  the  precincts  of  the  Post 
there  at  all.  Some  time  before,  it  was  said,  the  com- 
manding officer  sent  for  Pasquol,  their  head-chief,  and 
bade  him  order  his  squaws  away. 

“ My  squaws  ? ” he  indignantly  responded  ; “ no  my 
squaws  now  ! White  man’s  squaws  ! Before  white  man 
come,  squaws  good — stay  in  wigwam — cook — fish — work 
in  field — gather  barley — heap  good.  But  now  squaws 
about  Fort  all  day — City  all  night — and  Yumas  no  want 
’em.  White  man  made  squaws  a heap  bad.  White 
man  keep  ’em  ! ” 

And  with  this,  old  Pasquol,  a stately  old  savage, 
wrapped  his  blanket  about  his  shoulders,  and  strode 
haughtily  away.  As  far  as  we  could  learn,  there  had 
never  been  a missionary,  or  teacher  of  any  kind,  among 
these  poor  Yumas  ; and  to  all  who  feel  a call  in  that 
direction,  we  would  suggest  the  place  as  a superb  field, 
for  earnest  missionary  work.  Will  not  some  of  our 
religious  organizations,  now  that  they  have  got  the  Bed 
Man  so  fully  in  their  hands,  make  a note  of  this,  and  try 
to  look  a little  after  these  splendid  savages,  degraded 
though  they  be,  as  well  as  the  Cheyennes  and  Sioux,  and 
other  more  eastern  tribes? 

At  Fort  Yuma  we  overhauled  Gov.  McCormick  and 
10 


362 


GOV.  MCCOJRMICK- 


wife,  who  had  left  San  Francisco  in  advance  of  ns,  and 
who  were  now  about  to  leave  for  Prescott,  then  the  capi- 
tal of  Arizona.  On  reflection,  however,  rather  than  lose 
such  good  company,  they  decided  to  journey  with  us  to 
Tucson,  and  thence  somewhat  back  to  Prescott;  whence 
we  designed  returning  to  Los  Angelos  again,  via  Fort 
Mojave.  Accordingly,  we  left  Arizona  City,  March  4th, 
our  route  lying  up  the  Gila  easterly  two  hundred  miles 
to  Maricopa  Wells,  and  thence  southerly  one  hundred 
miles  to  Tucson,  the  oldest  and  most  considerable  town 
in  the  Territory,  and  now  again  the  capital.  Much  as 
we  had  “ roughed  it,”  while  en  route  from  Wilmington 
to  Fort  Yuma,  according  to  all  reports  we  would  have 
to  rough  it  much  worse  before  reaching  Tucson,  if  we 
trusted  to  the  wayside  ranches ; and,  therefore,  before 
setting  out,  we  secured  a joint  cook,  and  provided  our- 
selves with  a tolerable  larder.  Our  “outfit”  consisted 
of  two  four-mule  ambulances,  into  which  and  outside  we 
stowed  and  strapped  ourselves,  baggage,  rations,  forage, 
cooking  utensils,  etc.,  as  best  we  could.  Expecting  to 
“ camp-out  ” at  night,  we  also  took  along  two  extra 
wagon-sheets,  to  pitch  as  tents,  if  necessary ; but  never 
found  occasion  to  use  them,  except  as  beds,  beneath  those 
exquisite  skies.  There  was  no  cavalry  then  at  Yuma,  and 
the  road  as  far  as  Maricopa  Wells  being  reported  com- 
paratively safe,  we  decided  to  proceed  thither  without 
escort,  depending  upon  our  own  courage  and  vigilance. 
Nevertheless,  we  took  the  precaution  before  starting  to 
arm  our  cook  and  both  drivers  with  Springfield  muskets, 
while  we  ourselves  were  equipped  with  a Spencer  or 
Remington  rifle  apiece,  as  well  as  our  revolvers. 

With  a host  of  “ adios  ” and  “ good-byes,”  from  our 
Yuma  friends,  we  swung  out  of  Arizona  City  late  that 
morning,  through  sand  knee-deep,  and  thus  were  fairly 


GILA  CITY  —CASTLE  DOME 


363 


off  for  Tucson.  The  roads  proved  heavy  all  that  day, 
and  the  remains  of  the  sand-storm  kept  us  company  ; yet 
we  succeeded  in  making  thirty-one  miles,  and  went  into 
camp  before  night-fall  on  the  banks  of  the  Gila.  Some 
twenty  miles  out  we  passed  Gila  City,  consisting  of  two 
adobe  huts  and  an  abandoned  mine,  then  famous  as 
the  spot  where  Gen.  McD.,  and  some  San  Francisco 
friends,  had  recently  made  rather  “ permanent  invest- 
ments.” Thence  on  to  Maricopa  Wells,  indeed  all 
the  way  from  Arizona  City,  the  road  ascends  the  south 
bank  of  the  Gila,  and  confines  itself  pretty  closely 
to  it,  except  here  and  there  where  it  strikes  across 
the  mesas,  to  avoid  some  bend  in  this  most  tortuous  of 
streams.  The  Gila  itself  ordinarily  is  an  insignificant 
river,  apparently  famed  more  for  quicksands  than  water  ; 
but  just  now  its  banks  were  full  with  the  spring  freshet, 
and  its  usual  fords  dangerous  if  not  impassable.  Its 
valley  is  of  uncertain  breadth,  from  one  to  five  miles, 
though  its  river  bottoms — its  only  really  valuable  land — 
are  of  course  much  narrower.  Beyond  the  valley,  on 
either  side,  are  high  mesas  or  plateaus,  covered  often  with 
barren  volcanic  rocks,  like  the  table-lands  of  Idaho  ; and, 
beyond  these  still,  are  substantial  mountain-ranges.  The 
range  on  the  north,  day  after  day,  was  a constant  wonder 
and  delight.  Instead  of  ridges  and  peaks,  it  seemed  to 
be  rather  a succession  of  domes,  and  towers,  and  castel- 
lated ramparts,  sharp  and  well-defined  against  a peerless 
sky,  chief  among  which  was  Castle  Dome — a superb 
dome-like  mountain,  that  dominated  the  landscape  for 
two  or  three  days  together.  These  dome-shaped  moun- 
tains are  a feature  of  Arizona,  and  abound  everywhere 
in  the  Territory,  especially  in  the  northern  part  of  it. 

As  already  intimated,  we  found  the  Gila  very  high 
and  still  rising.  In  several  places,  it  had  just  washed  the 


364 


VALLEY  OF  THE  GILA 


banks  away,  destroying  the  road,  and  we  had  to  pick  our 
way  across  the  bottoms,  through  the  chemisal  and  mes- 
quite,  to  the  connecting  part,  the  best  we  could  In  this 
way,  it  seems,  its  channel  is  constantly  shifting,  and  this 
was  said  to  be  one  of  the  chief  drawbacks  to  construct- 
ing acequias,  and  cultivating  its  fine  bottom  lands  by 
irrigation.  The  head  of  an  acequia  to-day,  tapping  the 
river  well,  a month  hence  may  be  three  feet  or  more  out 
of  water,  and  then  all  the  work  of  excavating  ditches, 
damming  the  river,  etc.,  has  to  be  done  over  again.  The 
bed  of  the  Gila  itself,  in  the  main,  seems  to  be  pure 
quicksand.  At  one  point,  a station-keeper  showed  us 
where  a year  before  piles  had  been  driven  down  fifty 
feet,  in  making  a wing-dam  to  divert  a portion  of  the 
river  into  an  acequia  ; but  at  the  first  freshet,  the  cross 
currents  had  underbored  every  thing,  and  left  the  head  of 
the  acequia  high  and  dry.  No  doubt  the  river-bottoms 
are  all  exceedingly  fertile,  and  would  produce  well,  if 
irrigated ; but  not  otherwise.  Of  these,  there  is  a con- 
siderable breadth,  at  many  points  along  the  Gila,  and, 
here  and  there,  there  had  been  some  attempts  at  cultiva- 
tion, but  scarcely  any  worth  mentioning. 

These  bottoms  nearly  everywhere  abound  with  bunch- 
grass  and  mesquite-timber — the  one  the  delight  of  horses 
and  cattle,  the  other  invaluable  in  that  treeless  region. 
The  mesquite  has  but  little  height ; but  its  trunk  is  often 
two  and  three  feet  in  diameter,  though  only  about  as  many 
high,  from  which  point  it  throws  out  great,  sturdy,  black, 
gnarled  limbs  for  a distance  of  thirty  or  forty  feet  all 
around.  We  saw  many  of  them,  that  I think  could  not 
have  been  more  than  five  or  six  feet  in  height,  the  bend 
of  the  branches  included ; nevertheless,  with  their 
crooked  and,  gnarled  limbs,  they  sprawled  over  the 
ground  for  a diameter  of  fully  seventy-five  or  one  hun- 


BUNCH-GRASS  AND  MESQUITE 


365 


dred  feet.  At  first  they  strike  you  as  dwarfs,  puny  in 
aspect  and  purpose ; but  afterwards,  as  stunted  giants, 
massive  in  strength  and  power,  writhing  in  very  anguish, 
because  unable  to  tower  higher.  For  lumber  purposes, 
the  mesquite  amounts  to  but  little ; but  for  fuel,  it  is 
invaluable,  and  the  future  settlers  on  the  Gila  will  prize 
it  highly.  It  occurs  pretty  much  all  through  Arizona, 
on  the  best  river- bottoms,  and  everywhere  seems  a prov- 
idential institution.  It  makes  a fire-wood  scarcely  in- 
ferior to  oak  or  hickory,  and  bears  a bean  besides,  which 
constitutes  a large  part  of  the  subsistence  of  the  Mexi- 
cans and  the  Indians  there.  These  mesquite  beans  make 
a very  sweet  and  palatable  dish,  and  horses,  mules,  cattle, 
etc.  are  especially  fond  of  them.  The  Mexicans  we 
met  en  route  to  California,  were  subsisting  upon  them 
almost  entirely,  and  subsequently  in  wandering  through 
a Pimo  village,  we  found  them  in  every  storehouse.  A 
Pimo  belle,  for  a bundle  of  cigarritos,  cooked  us  a 
dish  of  them,  and  we  have  eaten  worse  things  in  New 
York  and  Washington.  Said  an  old  Arizonian  one  day, 
“ Wherever  you  see  mesquites,  strangers,  look  out  for 
good  land,  you  bet ! ” and  we  found  it  so  invariably. 
Indeed,  with  a moderate  amount  of  enterprise,  and  a 
small  amount  of  capital,  we  saw  no  good  reason  why  the 
valley  of  the  Gila  shou  d not  eventually  be  dotted  with 
excellent  farms.  The  land  is  all  there,  and  plenty  of  water 
to  irrigate  it  (if  only  the  Gila  can  be  subdued,  and  surely 
it  can),  and  the  climate  the  year  round  must  be  delicious. 
But,  as  a rule,  w^e  found  the  country  desolate  and  for- 
saken, with  the  exception  of  a starving  ranch  here 
and  there,  whose  dirty  and  dilapidated  proprietor  cared 
more  to  swear  at  his  snarling  half-cayote  dogs,  and  sell 
an  occasional  glass  of  mescal  or  whiskey,  than  to  do  an 
honest  hard  day’s  work.  The  truth  is,  the  most  of  these 


366 


MARICOPA  DESERT 


settlers,  as  well  as  too  many  throughout  Arizona  gen- 
erally, were  exiles  or  emigrants  from  Arkansas  and  Texas, 
with  little  in  them  of  the  kind  of  stuff  that  founds  states 
and  builds  empires.  They  knew  how  to  drink,  and  swear, 
and  “ shoot  a Red  Skin,  sir,  on  sight ;”  but  were  strangers 
to  honest  toil  and  steady  industry,  and  therefore  missed 
their  logical  and  golden  fruits — prosperity  and  thrift.  Of 
course,  like  all  such  everywhere,  they  were  opposed  to 
‘‘Chinese  cheap  labor;”  and,  like  the  good  William 
Rye,  hated  the  “ Heathen  Chinee,”  even  worse  than 
the  negro. 

At  Gila  Bend,  some  fifty  miles  from  Maricopa  Wells, 
the  river  makes  a sharp  curve  north,  and  the  road  leaves 
it,  for  a direct  course  across  the  Bend  to  Maricopa  Wells. 
This  embraces  what  is  known  mainly  as  the  Maricopa 
Desert — a wide  circuit  of  level  country,  practically  a 
waterless  desert,  though  with  some  good  land  here  and 
there.  In  wet  seasons  and  during  rainy  months,  water 
remains  in  a few  holes  near  the  middle  of  the  Desert; 
but  we  found  all  long  since  dry.  The  distance  is  usually 
made  in  two  stages,  water  being  carried  along  for  drink- 
ing and  cooking  purposes;  but  our  “outfit”  was  light, 
and  taking  an  early  start  and  driving  late,  we  pushed 
through  in  one.  The  Desert  itself,  as  level  as  a house- 
floor,  is  covered  with  a sort  of  fine  gravel,  that  makes 
an  excellent  road,  over  which  our  wheels  rolled  easily. 
Rear  its  eastern  borders,  a range  of  barren  mountains 
crosses  the  Desert  from  north  to  south,  apparently  block- 
ing the  way  ; but  the  road  climbs  along  through  a narrow 
canon,  that  opens  as  you  approach,  and  makes  the  plains 
beyond  very  readily.  This  canon  is  a noted  resort  of 
the  dread  Apaches,  and  several  attacks  had  recently 
occurred  here.  Before  leaving  Fort  Yuma  we  had  been 
told  we  would  find  hostile  Indians  here,  if  anywhere.  But 


PAINTED  ROCKS 


367 


we  took  the  precaution  to  dismount  from  our  ambulances, 
and  skirmish  through  on  foot ; and  consequently,  Senors 
Apaches  failed  to  show  themselves,  if  there.  Our  expe- 
rience was  the  same  all  the  way  to  Tucson.  Subsequently, 
while  en  route  thither,  we  passed  several  other  places, 
where  we  had  been  warned  to  look  out  for  Apaches,  espe- 
cially at  Picacho,  where  the  mountains  crowd  down  to  the 
road,  and  form  something  like  a canon  again.  But  a 
prudent  vigilance  by  day,  and  a few  simple  precautions  by 
night,  carried  us  safely  through ; and  we  were  more  than 
ever  convinced,  that  the  great  majority  of  Indian  attacks 
come  from  carelessness  and  neglect,  on  the  part  of  the 
attacked. 

A few  miles  vrest  of  Gila  Bend,  between  Berk’s 
Station  and  Oatman’s  Flat,  we  passed  a group  of  rocks, 
that  interest  everybody,  but  which  nobody  seemed  to 
know  much  about.  They  stand  near  the  roadside,  and 
consist  of  smooth  red  porphyry,  or  some  such  stone, 
curiously  carved  with  figures  of  men,  birds,  beasts,  fishes, 
etc.  Many  of  the  figures  are  now  quite  indistinct,  but 
sufficient  remain  to  show  what  they  were,  and  their  very 
indistinctness — coupled  with  the  hardness  of  the  stone — 
proves  their  great  antiquity.  The  rocks  themselves, 
when  struck,  ring  like  genuine  clink-sfones;  and,  it  would 
seem,  only  the  sharpest  and  hardest  instruments  could 
make  much  impression  on  them.  The  place  is  called 
“ Painted  Bocks,”  and  we  had  only  time  for  a cursory 
examination  ; but  the  sculpturing  seemed  too  remote  for 
Spanish  times,  and  was  generally  attributed  to  the  days 
of  the  Aztecs.  However  this  may  be,  they  appeared  to 
be  there  as  a species  of  hieroglyphics,  and  doubtless 
have  a story  to  tell,  that  some  future  Cham  poll  ion  may 
unfold.  It  may  be,  that  the  ancient  travel  for  Mexico 
left  the  Gila  here,  or  about  here,  and  struck  across  the 


368 


COLUMNAR  CACTUS — 


country  for  the  Santa  Cruz  and  so  south,  flanking  the 
Maricopa  Desert,  and  that  these  sculptured  rocks  record 
the  place  as  the  starting-point — as  a sort  of  finger-board 
or  mile-stone.  This  is  only  a conjecture ; but  here,  at 
least,  is  work  for  the  archaeologist  and  antiquarian,  as 
well  as  at  so  many  other  points  in  Arizona. 

With  the  exception  of  some  mesquite,  iron-wood, 
and  palo-verde  trees,  scattered  here  and  there  along  the 
Gila  and  its  bottoms,  the  whole  country  from  Yuma  to 
Tucson  is  practically  treeless,  and  must  continue  so  from 
want  of  rains.  Sage-brush  and  grease-wood  abound,  as 
in  Utah  and  Idaho,  and  throughout  the  great  internal 
basin  of  the  continent  generally;  and  on  the  uplands, 
you  find  the  great  columnar  cactus  in  full  vigor  and 
maturity.  Indeed,  from  the  time  we  struck  the  Colo- 
rado Desert,  we  were  fairly  into  the  cactus  region  of  the 
continent,  but  the  varieties  were  few,  and  the  size 
moderate,  till  we  got  well  into  Arizona.  Here  they 
increased  in  height  and  bulk,  until  we  reached  the  Mari- 
copa Desert,  where  we  found  them  thirty  and  forty  feet 
high,  by  two  or  three  feet  in  diameter,  with  perpendicular 
branches  halfway  up,  nearly  half  as  large  as  the  main 
stem.  This  variety  is  a green  fluted  column,  with  its 
edges  armed  with  semi-circular  thorns,  and  bears  a cluster 
of  apples  on  top,  from  which  the  Indians  extract  a rude 
molasses  or  sugar.  Inside,  it  is  a frame-work  of  reedy 
poles,  that  serve  many  useful  purposes  in  that  woodless 
region.  These  immense  cacti  dot  the  country  over  to 
Tucson,  and  beyond — indeed,  down  to  Mexico,  and  largely 
through  it  — and  are  a leading  feature  of  southern 
Arizona.  Sometimes  you  miss  them  altogether;  but, as 
a rule,  they  occur  more  or  less  on  the  mesas  or  plateaus 
nearly  everywhere,  and  seem  in  the  distance  like  monu- 
mental columns.  Their  clustering  groups  and  varying 


MARICOPAS  AND  PIMOS — 


309 


heights,  when  seen  from  afar,  have  all  the  effect  of  a 
rural  cemetery  ; only  here  the  shafts  are  emerald  green, 
instead  of  marble  white.  In  fights  with  the  Indians, 
they  often  prove  of  value  as  a defence,  and  their  huge 
trunks  secrete  a fluid  much  akin  to  wrater,  that  has  saved 
the  life  of  many  a thirsty  traveller,  when  iost  amid  these 
arid  wastes.  How  such  a gigantic  vegetable  or  immense 
plant  can  thus  flourish  here,  where  nothing  else  compara- 
tively will  grow,  is  a continuing  mystery  and  perpetual 
astonishment.  It  would  seem  more  fit  for  a luxuriant 
soil  and  a tropical  climate.  Yet  here  it  is,  magnum  opus, 
mocking  the  naturalist  apparently  to  scorn. 

At  Maricopa  Wells,  and  thence  up  the  Gila,  wre  found 
a large  settlement  of  the  Maricopa  and  Pimo  Indians. 
The  Maricopas,  it  seems,  are  an  offshoot  of  the  lrumas, 
and  number  less  than  a thousand  souls.  The  Pimos  foot 
up  five  or  six  thousand,  and  from  them  are  sprung  the 
Papagos — a great  tribe  dominating  all  southern  Arizona. 
The  Maricopas  and  Pimos  have  a Reservation  here 
together,  som  e twenty-five  miles  long  by  four  or  five  wide, 
embracing  both  sides  of  the  Gila,  and  live  in  twelve  dif- 
ferent villages  scattered  over  it.  Two  of  these  are  occu- 
pied wholly  by  Maricopas — the  rest,  by  Pimos.  Both 
tribes  are  a healthy,  athletic,  vigorous-looking  people, 
and  they  were  decidedly  the  most  well-to-do  aborigines 
wre  had  yet  seen.  Unlike  most  Indians  elsewdiere,  these 
two  tribes  are  steadily  on  the  increase ; and  this  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at,  when  one  sees  how  they  have 
abandoned  a vagabond  condition,  and  settled  down  to 
regular  farming  and  grazing.  They  have  constructed 
great  acequias  up  and  down  the  Gila,  and  by  means  of 
these  take  out  and  carry  water  for  irrigating  purposes, 
over  thousands  of  acres  of  as  fine  land  as  anybody 
owns.  Their  fields  were  w^ell  fenced  writh  willows,  they 
16* 


370 


OUR  OLD  INDIAN  POLICY 


had  been  scratched  a little  with  rude  plows,  and  already 
(March  9th)  they  were  green  with  the  fast  springing 
wheat  and  barley.  In  addition,  they  raise  corn,  beans, 
melons,  etc.,  and  have  horses  and  cattle  in  considerable 
numbers.  One  drove  of  their  live  stock,  over  two  thou- 
sand head,  passed  down  the  road  just  ahead  of  us,  subse- 
quently when  en  route  to  Tucson,  and  we  were  told  they 
had  many  more.  The  year  before,  these  Indians  had 
raised  and  sold  a surplus  of  wheat  and  corn,  amounting 
to  two  millions  of  pounds,  besides  a large  surplus  of  bar- 
ley, beans,  etc.  The  most  of  this  was  bought  by  Indian 
traders,  located  at  Maricopa  Wells  and  Pimo  villages,  at 
from  one  to  two  cents  per  pound,  coin,  in  trade  ; and  then 
resold  to  the  government,  for  the  use  of  troops  in  Arizona, 
at  from  six  to  seven  cents  per  pound,  coin,  in  cash.  This 
is  a specimen  of  the  way  in  which  the  old  Indian  Ring 
fleeced  both  the  Indians  and  the  government,  and  I give  it 
as  a passing  argument  in  favor  of  the  new  policy.  These 
Indians,  it  appears,  have  practiced  agriculture  somewhat 
from  time  immemorial,  and  they  should  be  encouraged 
in  it,  as  there  is  no  surer  way  of  “ pacifying  ” or  civilizing 
them.  During  the  rebellion,  they  furnished  two  compa- 
nies to  the  Union  volunteers  in  Arizona,  and  the  most 
of  these  had  just  re-enlisted,  to  serve  as  scouts  against  the 
Apaches.  These  wore  a mongrel  uniform,  half  Indian, 
half  soldier  ; but  the  rest,  only  the  traditional  breech- 
cloth. 

Their  wigwams  are  oval-shaped,  wicker-work  lodges, 
made  of  poles,  thatched  with  willows  and  straw,  and  this 
in  turn  overlaid  with  earth.  An  inverted  wash-bowl, 
on  an  exaggerated  scale,  would  not  be  a bad  representa- 
tion of  one  of  them.  They  are  usually  five  or  six  feet 
high  in  the  centre,  by  fifteen  or  twenty  in  diameter,  and 
would  be  very  comfortable  dwellings,  were  it  not  for 


FISH-HOOKS  VS.  OX-CA.RTS.  ETC. — 371 

their  absurd  doors.  These  are  only  about  thirty  inches 
high,  by  perhaps  twenty  wide,  and  consequently  the  only 
mode  of  entrance  is  on  your  hands  and  knees.  While 
halting  at  the  Pimo  villages  for  a day,  we  managed  to 
crawl  into  one,  for  the  sake  of  the  experience  ; but  the 
smoke  and  the  dirt  soon  drove  us  out.  There  was  a dull 
tire  in  the  centre,  but  with  no  means  of  exit  for  the  smoke, 
except  the  low  doorway.  Push  or  willow  mats  covered 
the  rest  of  the  floor,  and  on  these  three  or  four  Pimos 
lay  snoozing,  wrapped  in  hides  and  blankets.  Various 
articles  of  rude  pottery,  made  by  themselves,  were 
stowed  away  under  the  eaves  of  the  roof ; and  at  the 
farther  side,  suspended  from  a roof-pole  in  a primitive 
cradle,  was  a pretty  papoose  sound  asleep.  As  we 
crawled  in,  the  venerable  head  of  the  family,  raising  him- 
self on  his  elbow,  saluted  us  with  : 

“ Ugh  ! White  man  % ” 

To  which,  we,  in  true  Arizona  dialect,  responded : 
“How!  Buenos  dias,  Senor!  ” 

His  dignified  and  elegant  answer  was : 

“ Heap  good  ! ’Bacco  ? Matches  ? ” 

We  gave  him  some  of  each,  and  shook  hands  all 
round,  when  the  aged  aborigine  was  pleased  to  add  : 

“ Pimos ! Americanos  ! Much  friends  ! MuiMucho  ! ” 
These  Indians  had  long  been  quiet  and  peaceable, 
and  it  would  seem  are  already  on  the  road  to  civilization. 
What  they  need  is  school-houses  and  religious  teach- 
ers. They  had  an  Agent,  an  ex-officer  of  volunteers, 
who  seemed  honest  and  capable.  But  his  hands  were 
tied,  as  to  many  essential  things,  and  as  a rule  he  was 
powerless  for  good.  The  Indian  Bureau,  with  its  then 
accustomed  wisdom,  continued  to  send  him  fishing-lines 
and  fish-hooks,  although  there  was  not  a palatable  fish  in 
the  Gila — I suppose,  because  the  Indians  formerly  on  the 


372 


THE  REGION  GENERALLY 


Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  needed  these ; but  persistently 
refused  him  carts  and  wagons,  although  these  were  con- 
stantly called  for,  to  enable  them  to  haul  their  crops  and 
fuel.  As  it  was,  we  found  the  poor  squaws  gathering 
their  scanty  fuel  as  best  they  could — often  miles  away — 
and  lugging  it  home  to  their  villages,  on  their  backs  and 
heads,  from  far  and  near.  A single  cart  or  wagon  to  a 
village  would  be  invaluable  to  these  poor  creatures,  and 
would  do  more  to  ameliorate  their  condition,  than  a car- 
load of  fish-hooks,  or  a cargo  of  trinkets  and  blankets. 
Religiously,  their  ideas  seemed  confused  and  vague, 
except  that  they  believed,  in  a general  way,  in  some  sort 
of  a supreme  being,  -whom  they  call  Montezuma.  On 
the  mountains  to  the  west  of  them,  clear-cut  against 
their  azure  sky,  is  a gigantic  human  profile,  which  they 
claim  is  Montezuma  asleep.  It  bears,  indeed,  a striking 
resemblance  to  our  own  Washington,  and  is  a marked 
feature  of  the  landscape  for  many  miles. 

Thence  on  to  Tucson,  nearly  a hundred  miles  south, 
we  found  the  country  much  the  same  as  up  the  Gila,  and 
across  the  Maricopa  Desert.  There  was  a great  want  of 
water  everywhere,  and  often  we  would  travel  for  twenty 
and  thirty  miles,  before  we  came  to  a stream  or  spring. 
Our  road  was  almost  a dead  level,  generally  free  from 
sand,  along  which  our  teams  trotted  gaily,  and  it  really 
seemed,  as  if  specially  designed  for  a natural  highway  here 
forever.  A railroad  could  want  no  better  route  ; and  here 
is  surely  the  predestined  pathway  of  our  future  Arizona 
Southern,  or  some  such  road,  into  Sonora.  Of  population 
there  was  even  less  than  on  the  Gila,  until  we  struck  the 
Santa  Cruz  near  Tucson,  when  ranches  again  thickened 
up,  and  flocks  and  herds  on  a moderate  scale  were  not 
infrequent.  The  chief  characteristic  of  the  country 
everywhere  was  the  columnar  cactus,  the  gigantic  species 


APACHE  INDIANS. 


373 


spoken  of  on  page  368.  The  farther  we  got  south,  the 
larger  it  grew  and  the  more  it  branched  out,  until  it 
became  indeed  quite  a tree,  after  a clumsy  sort.  Sage- 
brush and  grease-wood,  of  course,  constantly  occurred, 
and  here  and  there  superb  bunch-grass  abounded,  which 
will  prove  invaluable  hereafter  for  grazing  purposes,  when 
the  country  settles  up.  The  mountains  usually  gave  ns  a 
wide  berth ; occasionally,  however,  they  crowded  quite 
down  to  the  road,  as  at  Picacho  and  Point  of  Mountains, 
and  as  we  neared  Tucson  they  shot  up  into  a bold, 
castellated  front  off  to  the  east,  that  would  be  very  sur- 
prising outside  of  Arizona.  Here,  however,  such  dome- 
like peaks,  and  castellated  walls,  are  frequent  features 
of  the  scenery. 

The  weather  proved  delicious  all  the  way  down,  and 
our  ride  throughout  a delightful  one.  We  heard  of 
Apaches  at  one  or  two  points,  but  it  was  always  a fort- 
night before  or  several  miles  ahead,  and  we  went 
through  unmolested.  Before  leaving  Maricopa  Wells, 
we  were  warned  of  Apaches  en  route , and  as  a prudent 
precaution  accepted  an  escort  of  three  infantry-men, 
whom  we  mounted  on  our  ambulances — there  being  no 
cavalry  on  hand.  These  stood  guard  in  turn  at  night, 
and  were  vigilant  by  day.  But  we  saw  no  enemy,  and 
their  only  service  was  to  arrest  an  insubordinate  and 
drunken  teamster,  who  afterwards  escaped  from  them,  but 
the  next  morning  returned  and  resumed  his  mules.  He 
was  a queer  genius,  indigenous  to  the  Border ; but,  sub- 
sequently, proved  himself  a brave  and  gallant  fellow — one 
of  the  best  teamsters  I ever  knew. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


TUCSON  TO  PRESCOTT. 


UCSOH  we  found  to  be  a sleep}r  old  town,  of  a 


thousand  or  so  inhabitants,  that  appeared  to  be 
trying  its  best  to  take  things  easy,  and  succeeds  in 
doing  so.  It  was  formerly,  and  is  now  again,  the  capital 
of  Arizona,  and  the  largest  town  in  the  territory.  It  is 
reputed  to  be  some  two  hundred  years  old,  and  its 
appearance  certainly  justifies  its  reputation.  It  sort  of 
half  awoke  from  its  lethargy  one  day,  when  news  arrived 
that  our  party  were  en  route , at  Point  of  the  Mountains, 
and  would  reach  Tucson  next  morning.  Arrangements 
were  hastily  made  to  organize  a procession,  and  give 
their  distinguished  visitors  a grand  reception,  with  music, 
speeches,  etc.  Ho  doubt  it  would  have  been  a curious 
performance,  all  things  considered.  But  while  its  pro- 
jectors were  agitating,  and  discussing,  and  deciding 
what  hour  to  start,  lo  ! our  dusty  and  jaded  teams  trotted 
into  town,  and  Tucson  missed  one  of  its  biggest  sensa- 
tions. Ho  doubt  the  honorable  Committee  and  their 
selected  orator  were  much  put  out ; but  others,  it  is 
certain,  secretly  rejoiced. 

The  town  itself  is  built  wholly  of  adobe,  in  thorough 
Mexican  or  Spanish  style,  and  its  population  fluctuated. 
During  the  rule  of  Maximilian  in  Mexico,  there  was  a 
considerable  influx  of  Liberals  here  from  Sonora,  so 
that  the  town  at  one  time  numbered  perhaps  fifteen 


TUCSON  ITSELF — 


375 


hundred  souls.  But  with  his  “ taking  off,”  and  the  rise 
again  of  Jaurez,  many  had  returned  thither ; so  that  the 
population  was  then  only  about  a thousand  or  so,  as 
above  stated,  of  whom  fully  two-thirds  or  more  were 
Mexicans,  originally  or  by  descent.  Its  streets  are  un- 
paved, and  all  slope  to  the  middle  as  a common  sewer, 
as  in  Spain.  It  boasted  several  saloons,  one  rather 
imposing,  and  some  good  stores;  but  had  no  bank,  news- 
paper, school- house,  or  church,  except  a rude  adobe 
structure,  where  a Mexican  padre  officiated  on  Sunday 
to  a small  audience,  with  much  array  of  lights,  images, 
drums  and  violins,  and  afterwards  presided  at  the  cus- 
tomary cock-fight.  As  specimens  of  ruling  prices,  grain 
(barley  and  wheat)  sold  at  $3  per  bushel,  hay  at  $40  per 
ton,  lumber  at  $250  per  thousand,  all  coin,  and  other 
things  in  proportion.  The  lumber  came  from  the 
Santa  Pita  Mountains,  fifty  miles  away,  and  was  poor 
and  scarce  at  that. 

The  basis  of  Tucson’s  existence,  it  appears,  is  the 
little  Santa  Cruz  river,  which  flows  along  just  at  the 
edge  of  the  town,  and  irrigates  some  hundreds  of  sur- 
rounding acres,  green  just  then  (March  13th-18th), 
with  wheat,  barley,  oats,  etc.  There  is  a good  breadth 
of  fine  land  here,  and  near  here,  and  the  river  ought 
to  be  made  to  irrigate  the  wdiole  valley.  No  doubt 
with  proper  husbanding  and  utilizing  of  the  little 
stream,  thousands  of  acres  might  be  cultivated,  and 
the  wffiole  region,  both  above  and  below  Tucson,  be 
made  to  produce  largely.  Peach-trees  w’ere  in  bloom 
down  by  the  river  side  when  we  were  there ; the  grape, 
the  orange,  and  the  olive  appeared  in  many  gardens ; 
and  both  climate  and  soil  seemed  all  the  most  fastidious 
could  wish.  But  Tucson  lacks  energy  and  capital,  and 
besides,  it  seemed,  the  Apaches  claim  original,  and  pretty 


376  RATHER  RIP  VAN  WINKLE-ISH 

much  undisputed,  jurisdiction  over  most  of  the  country 
there.  Merchants  complained  that  the  Apaches  raided 
on  their  teams  and  trains  en  route , and  ranchmen  that 
the  wily  rascals  levied  contributions  regularly  on  their 
live  stock,  as  soon  as  it  was  worth  anything,  and  did  not 
hesitate  to  scalp  and  kill,  as  w^ell  as  steal,  if  it  came  in 
their  way.  Farming  or  grazing  under  such  circum- 
stances, it  must  be  conceded,  could  hardly  be  called 
very  lucrative  or  enticing,  and  the  Tucsonians  are  enti- 
tled to  the  benefit  of  this  explanation. 

The  livest  and  most  energetic  things,  however,  that  we 
saw  about  Tucson  were  its  innumerable  blackbirds,  that 
thronged  the  few  trees  about  the  streets,  and  awoke  us 
every  morning  with  their  multitudinous  twittering  and 
chattering.  How  those  birds  did  chatter  and  sing,  from 
daylight  well  on  into  the  morning  ; and  what  a relief  they 
were  to  the  dull  and  prosy  old  town  ! The  men  and 
women,  wrapped  in  their  serapes  or  blankets,  sunned 
themselves  by  the  hour  in  the  doorways.  The  dogs  and 
cats,  the  goats  and  pigs,  slept  on  in  the  streets,  or 
strolled  lazily  about  at  will.  But  these  plucky  birds 
sung  on  and  ou,  with  all  the  heartiness  and  abandon  of 
the  robin  or  mocking-bird  in  the  East ; and  Tucson  should 
emulate  their  intrepidity,  and  zeal.  She  should  shake 
off  somewhat  of  the  spirit  of  Hip  Yan  Winkle,  and 
remember  she  is  under  Yankee  Government  now,  and  in 
the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Tucson  already  drove  a considerable  trade  with 
Sonora,  and  expected  to  increase  this  much,  now  that 
Maximilian  had  subsided.  Its  main  importance,  how- 
ever, just  then,  arose  from  its  being  the  headquarters  of 
the  Military  District  there,  and  the  chief  depot  for  the 
several  posts  comprising  said  District.  The  stores  for 
Camps  Lovell,  Cameron,  Wallen,  Bowie,  Goodwin,  and 


COSTLY  TRANSPORTATION 


377 


Grant,  were  all  received  here  from  Fort  Yuma  by 
contractors’  trains,  and  then  re-distributed  by  army  teams 
to  these  posts,  respectively,  as  needed.  This  made  con- 
siderable business,  first  and  last,  and  rendered  the 
Quartermaster  at  Tucson  quite  an  important  personage. 
The  route  was  by  sailing-vessels,  semi-occasionally,  down 
the  Pacific  Coast  and  up  the  stormy  Gulf  of  California 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado ; thence  by  cockle-shell 
steamers  up  the  aggravating-  Colorado  River  to  Fort 
Yuma;  and  thence  by  contractors’  teams  to  Tucson — at 
a total  cost,  from  San  Francisco,  of  about  twenty  cents 
per  pound , in  coin , for  every  load  of  Government 
freight  thus  put  down  at  Tucson.  The  time  consumed 
was  anywhere  from  two  to  four  months,  depending 
on  the  head-winds  and  “ borers”  * in  the  uncertain 
Gulf,  the  amount  of  water  or  sand  in  the  Colorado 
River,  and  the  condition  of  the  roads  and  Indians 
generally  up  the  valley  of  the  Gila.  Private  freight,  of 
course,  largely  followed  the  same  route,  ex  necessitate , 
and  the  rates  were  simply  ruinous  to  Tucson.  Mer- 
chants and  freighters  there  claimed,  that  the  same  work 
could  be  done,  via  either  Libertad  or  Guaymas,  instead 
of  Yuma,  at  a cost  of  not  exceeding  seven  or  eight  cents 
per  pound,  coin,  and  in  not  more  than  from  twenty  to 
thirty  days,  from  San  Francisco,  at  the  farthest.  This,  of 
course,  meant  steamers  from  San  Francisco  to  the  Gulf; 
but  a coast-wise  line  already  touched  semi-monthly  at 
Guaymas,  and  it  was  thought  would  also  put  in  at  Libertad, 
if  inducement  offered.  Libertad  lies  two  hundred  miles 
off,  to  the  southwest  of  Tucson,  on  the  Gulf  of  California, 
and  is  a port  not  equal  to  San  Francisco  or  San  Diego,  in- 
deed ; but  yet  it  is  not  much  behind  San  Pedro  or  Santa 
Barbara,  and  it  seems  is  of  sufficient  advantages  most  of 
* Huge  tide- waves  at  the  head  of  the  Gulf. 


378 


LIBERTAD  AND  GUAYMAS  ROUTES 


the  year  round.  It  is  an  open  roadstead  like  the  latter,  but 
is  well  sheltered  from  all  but  southwest  winds,  and  when 
these  come,  there  is  the  broad  Gulf  for  an  offing.  Guay- 
mas,  farther  south,  and  a hundred  miles  farther  away,  is 
one  of  the  best  ports  on  the  Pacific  Coast : and  the  roads 
to  both  are  excellent  natural  highways,  unsurpassed  as 
such  in  America. 

True,  both  of  these  ports  are  in  Mexican  territory, 
which  was  one  of  the  blunders  of  our  treaty  of  ces- 
sion there ; but  the  Mexican  authorities,  it  was  said, 
were  willing  and  anxious  to  have  us  make  use  of 
them,  and  now  that  the  Imperialists  had  left  Sonora, 
there  was  no  difficulty  in  traversing  the  country,  except 
from  occasional  Indians.  Individuals,  it  was  said, 
already  travelled  everywhere  alone  there,  camping  out  at 
night  with  safety ; and  a train  of  teams,  with  armed 
teamsters,  it  was  believed,  would  be  invincible  against 
any  aborigines,  that  would  be  likely  to  turn  up.  At 
least,  this  was  Tucson’s  oft-told  story,  and  the  burden  of 
her  griefs,  when  we  were  there.  What  she  wanted  was 
to  get  “ inside,”  or  secure  access  to  civilization,  cheap 
and  quick.  She  had  rich  copper  mines  and  fair  silver 
ones,  as  we  ourselves  witnessed,  only  a few  miles  off; 
but  these  were  now  all  tying  idle,  because  of  Apaches, 
and  the  excessive  cost  and  slowness  of  transportation. 
This  last  item,  of  course,  was  .the  chief  one.  For  cheap 
and  quick  transportation  would  bring  population,  stimu- 
late enterprise,  develop  the  country,  re-open  her  mines, 
“ pacify  ” or  extirpate  the  Apaches,  and  release  the 
military  for  duty  elsewhere.  What  she  specially  wanted, 
just  then,  was  to  get  the  Government  contractors’  teams 
to  select  either  the  Libertad  or  Guaymas  route,  instead 
of  via  Fort  Yuma  and  the  Gila — she  did  not  care  much, 
which.  The  wagons  returning  thither  would  take  her 


SAN  XAVIER  DEL  BAC — 


379 


ores,  and  surplus  grain  and  wool,  down  to  the  coast  “ and 
a market’1  cheap,  rather  than  go  back  empty ; and  thus 
solve  the  problem  of  her  prosperity  and  growth.  Of 
course,  she  looked  forward  to  a transcontinental  railroad 
in  time;  but,  as  yet,  this  was  in  the  dim  future.  The, 
chief  object  of  my  trip  thither  was  to  look  well  into 
these  facts,  and  they  were  duly  reported  to  the  proper 
Department  at  Washington,  for  its  information  and 
action.  This  change  of  routes,  it  really  seemed,  would 
result  in  a saving  of  at  least  two  hundred  thousand  dollars , 
in  coin , to  the  Government  annually  ; but  it  may  not 
have  been  thought  advisable,  notwithstanding  that,  to 
trust  our  line  of  supplies  thus  to  foreign  soil. 

South  of  Tucson,  some  ten  miles,  on  the  road  to 
Tubac  and  Mexico,  on  the  banks  of  the  Santa  Cruz 
still,  is  the  famous  church  of  San  Xavier  Del  Bac,  a 
venerable  relic  of  the  former  Spanish  rule  in  Arizona. 
The  road  thither  leads  through  dense  mesquite  and  palo 
verde  bottoms,  with  water  enough  in  the  Santa  Cruz  to 
irrigate  them  all ; but,  as  yet,  they  were  unbroken  by  the 
husbandman.  The  church  itself  seems  to  have  been 
built  about  a hundred  years  ago,  and,  though  abandoned, 
is  still  in  a good  state  of  preservation.  It  is  not  of  adobe, 
but  of  large,  red,  kiln-burnt  brick,  rough-coated  with  a 
yellowish  cement,  that  seems  well-nigh  indestructible. 
It  is  cruciform  in  style,  with  thick  and  solid  walls,  and 
its  antique  front  and  towers  have  originally  been  pro- 
fusely decorated  with  saints,  angels,  griffins,  etc.,  in  niche 
or  bas-relief,  though  many  of  these  are  now  mutilated  or 
destroyed.  Inside  it  is  handsomely  frescoed,  and  was  no 
doubt  once  rich  in  paintings,  ornaments,  relics,  etc.,  though 
these  have  now  mostly  disappeared.  Its  roof  seems  to  be 
a sort  of  asplialtum  or  concrete,  and  appears  as  tight  and 
firm,  as  when  first  laid.  In  one  of  the  towers,  there  is 


380 


PAPAGO  INDIANS — 


still  a fine  cliime  of  bells,  that  came  no  doubt  originally 
from  Castile  or  Arragon.  The  age  of  this  church  is  vari- 
ously reported,  but  from  a cursory  examination  it  appeared 
to  have  been  erected  about  the  year  1797,  although  we 
were  shown  a mutilated  register  of  marriages,  births, 
deaths,  etc.,  that  began  in  1752.  This  last,  however, 
seemed  to  antedate  the  church,  as  if  it  had  been  in  use 
by  the  Spanish  settlement  here  in  early  times,  before 
they  were  able  to  achieve  such  an  edifice.  This  church 
was  no  doubt  a link  in  the  chain  of  Spanish  Missions, 
that  the  Jesuits  a century  or  more  ago  established,  from 
the  City  of  Mexico  to  Northern  California,  and  was 
abandoned  like  the  rest  of  them,  with  the  subsequent 
collapse  of  their  priestly  power.  No  doubt,  in  its  time, 
it  was  the  centre  of  a considerable  community  there  ; 
but  now,  only  a squalid  village  of  Papago  Indians 
crouches  at  its  feet,  who  regard  the  aged  structure  with 
a superstitious  reverence,  and  will  not  permit  its  fine 
chime  of  bells  to  be  removed  to  Tucson,  for  fear  of  Our 
Lady’s  displeasure.  The  padre  at  Tucson  comes  down 
and  says  mass  occasionally,  and  baptizes  their  young 
children  ; but  he  cannot  cajole  them  out  of  their  bells, 
and  doubtless  they  would  fight,  rather  than  lose  them. 
Altogether,  this  church  is  now  the  best  and  oldest  civ- 
ilized structure  to  be  found  in  Arizona.  Very  slight 
repairs  would  fit  it  for  occupancy  and  worship  again  ; 
but,  unfortunately,  there  are  no  inhabitants  there  now  to 
occupy  and  worship  in  it,  except  the  Papagos  aforesaid — 
and  as  specimens  of  good  clean  Christians,  they  don’t 
amount  to  much  now-a-days,  whatever  they  were  once. 

From  Tucson,  we  retraced  our  steps  to  Maricopa 
Wells,  reaching  there  again  March  21st,  en  route  to 
Prescott ; and  here  had  every  prospect  of  being  detained 
a month  or  more,  by  the  spring  freshets  in  the  Gila  and 


A GILA  FRESHET 


381 


Salado.  While  down  at  Tucson,  there  had  been  heavy 
rains,  and  a great  melting  of  snows,  on  the  mountains  to 
the  east ; and  the  usually  sluggish,  half-dry  rivers  were 
now  all  alive,  and  booming.  The  Gila,  especially,  had 
overflowed  its  banks,  and  its  whole  valley  below  in  many 
places  was  inundated.  Ranch  after  ranch  had  been 
swept  away,  and  in  several  instances  the  scant  inhabitants 
had  barely  escaped  with  their  lives,  from  its  treacherous 
waters.  The  fine  mesquite  bottom  at  Gila  Bend  was 
reported  four  feet  under  water,  and  Mr.  James’  house, 
corral,  etc.  there — the  finest  we  saw  coming  up  the  Gila 
— were  all  gone.  The  freshet  was  said  to  be  the  highest 
known  there  for  years,  and  inflicted  a loss  on  the  Gila 
valley  alone,  it  was  alleged,  of  many  thousands  of  dol- 
lars. The  road  was  submerged  or  washed  out  in  many 
places,  and  all  travel  to  and  from  Yuma  was  interrupted 
for  weeks,  except  such  as  could  make  its  way  around 
over  the  hills  and  mesas,  by  the  old  Indian  trails.  Col. 
Crittenden,  with  a column  of  three  hundred  men,  en 
route  to  Tucson  and  Southern  Arizona,  succeeded  in 
getting  through  to  Maricopa  Wells  in  fifteen  days,  though 
we  had  made  it  in  five.  Ke  was  accompanied  by  his 
wife,  a brave  lady  and  true-hearted  Kentuckian,  who 
deserved  and  received  much  praise,  for  the  long  and 
arduous  trip  she  was  thus  making,  rather  than  separate 
from  her  gallant  husband. 

These  two  rivers,  the  Gila  and  Salado,  lay  directly 
across  our  path  to  Fort  Whipple  and  Prescott,  for  which 
we  were  now  bound — Gov.  McCormick  and  wife  to 
return  to  their  home  there,  and  T.  and  I to  look 
after  U.  S.  post-office  and  military  affairs  there  gen- 
erally. They  were  both,  swollen  and  turbid ; nobody 
had  forded  them,  for  a month ; and  they  were  still 
at  freshet  height,  and  rising — without  bridge  or  ferry. 


332 


FLOOD-STAYED 


As  nothing  better  could  be  done,  we  decided  to  halt 
at  Maricopa  Wells  for  a few  days,  as  we  could  neither 
get  forward  to  Prescott  nor  backward  to  Yuma,  though 
the  delay  was  most  vexatious  at  such  an  out-of-the- 
world  place,  where  the  mail  was  so  intermittent,  and 
their  freshest  newspaper  more  than  a month  old.  We 
spent  the  time  in  writing  up  our  note-books,  and  in  study- 
ing the  Pimas  and  Maricopas ; but  the  days  wore  heavily 
on,  with  small  prospect  of  the  waters  subsiding.  Finally, 
after  waiting  nearly  a week,  chafing  at  the  delay,  we 
heard  of  a little  row-boat  owned  by  a German,  down  at 
the  McDowell  crossing  of  the  Gila,  which  it  was  reported 
would  suffice  to  ferry  us  over,  if  we  took  our  ambulances 
well  to  pieces.  We  would  then  have  to  mount  the  boat 
on  a wagon  and  transport  it  thirty  miles  or  so,  overland 
to  the  Salado,  and  there  repeat  the  operation ; but  this 
was  better,  than  halting  indefinitely  at  the  Wells.  We 
had  been  told,  there  was  no  boat,  available  for  such  a 
purpose ; but  I determined  to  see  what  we  could  do,  with 
this  one.  Of  course,  it  would  be  slow  work,  and  per- 
haps dangerous,  ferrying  over  two  swollen  rivers,  by 
piecemeal  thus.  But  it  seemed  better,  than  being 
embargoed  and  flood-stayed  here — practically  five  hun- 
dred miles  away  from  everywhere — and  with  no  news 
from  “ inside”  or  civilization,  for  over  a month  now. 
As  to  whether  we  would  succeed,  we  could  only  say 
nous  verrons , or  quien  sabe  • but  meant  to  try,  anyhow. 

Accordingly,  early  March  25th,  we  said  “ adios”  to 
our  good  friends  at  the  Wells,  and,  wfith  many  thanks  for 
their  hospitality  and  kind  wishes,  drove  down  to  the 
Gila,  some  six  miles  away.  We  found  it  at  freshet 
height,  perhaps  a hundred  yards  wide,  by  ten  or  twelve 
feet  deep,  and  running  like  a mill-race — its  tawny  waters 
tossing  and  whirling,  hither  and  yon,  and  overflowing  its 


CROSSING  THE  GILA  AND  SALADO 


383 


thither  bank  for  a long  distance.  Now  and  then,  as  if  to 
enliven  the  scene  further,  a floating  raesquite  or  an  uproot- 
ed cottonwood  would  come  rushing  by,  sweeping  all  before 
it.  Altogether,  I confess,  the  Gila  was  not  a very  inviting 
stream,  just  then,  to  navigate.  But  Louis  Heller  was 
there,  with  his  little  boat ; Prescott  was  before,  and  the 
Wells  behind  us;  and  we  resolved  to  venture  over,  if 
possible.  His  boat  was  a mere  cockle-shell  affair  at  best, 
a rude  canoe,  ten  feet  long  by  three  wide,  and  clumsy  at 
that ; but  Louis,  nevertheless,  with  true  German  grit  and 
skill,  managed  to  make  it  ferry  both  us  and  our  “ outfit” 
safely  across,  in  the  course  of  the  day.  First,  went  our 
baggage  and  forage,  with  the  Governor  and  his  lady ; 
then  the  vehicles,  after  being  taken  well  to  pieces ; then, 
with  much  hallooing  and  shouting,  we  forced  the  mules 
into  the  stream,  and  made  them  swim  for  it.  Only  two 
or  three  got  across  at  first,  though  the  boat  led  with  a 
mule  swimming  behind  it,  held  by  a lariat ; but  these 
served  as  decoys,  and  the  next  trip  the  rest  ventured 
over.  There  was  a great  struggling  and  whee-haw-ing  in 
the  water  for  awhile,  and  now  and  then  a donkey  would 
whirl  over  or  go  under,  and  some  landed  far  down 
stream ; nevertheless,  we  lost  none,  and  soon  after  we 
ourselves  got  safely  across.  The  little  tub  of  a canoe 
tossed  and  tumbled  very  shakily,  when  she  got  out  into  the 
current,  and  for  a few  minutes  shot  wildly  down  stream ; 
but  the  strong  arm  of  our  sturdy  Teuton  mastered  the 
wild  waters,  and  at  last  brought  us  safely  ashore. 

It  was  nightfall,  before  we  got  over,  .and  our  ambu- 
lances together  again.  The  next  morning  early,  we  put 
Louis  and  his  boat  on  a wagon,  and  started  for  the 
McDowell  Crossing  of  the  Salado,  some  thirty-five  miles 
away.  The  Prescott  Crossing,  several  miles  below,  was 
reported  impracticable,  even  with  the  boat,  because  of 


384 


FORT  MCDOWELL 


the  wide  overflow  of  the  banks  there;  but  we  hoped  to 
get  over  at  the  McDowell  Crossing,  and  then  follow 
down  the  north  bank  of  the  Salado,  until  we  struck  the 
Prescott  road  again.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon 
when  we  reached  the  McDowell  Crossing,  and  the 
condition  of  the  Salado  there  was  anything  but  en- 
couraging. We  found  it  at  least  three  times  the  size 
of  the  Gila,  and  with  its  waters  even  more  swollen  and 
turbulent.  Nevertheless,  it  was  perceptibly  falling,  and 
Louis  predicted  a much  better  state  of  things  next  morn- 
ing. This  proved  to  be  true;  so,  early  on  the  27th, 
we  began  to  ferry  over  again,  as  at  the  Gila.  But  it 
was  a tedious  and  delicate  operation.  The  river,  as  I 
have  said,  was  three  or  four  times  as  wide,  and  the 
swollen  flood  so  swift,  that  the  boat  usually  landed  a 
quarter  of  a mile  or  more  below  where  it  went  in.  Then 
we  had  to  drag  and  pole  it  back  along  the  opposite  bank, 
half  a mile  or  so  above,  whence  we  could  row  it  diago- 
nally across  to  the  place  of  starting  again. 

It  took  us  two  days,  to  cross  the  Salado  thus,  and  I 
need  scarcely  say,  they  were  long  and  anxious  ones.  We 
were  now  in  a region  infested  by  Apaches,  and  we  had 
to  be  constantly  on  the  alert  to  guard  against  surprise. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day,  leaving  our 
teamsters  and  little  escort  to  get  the  ambulances  together 
and  repack  them,  we  proceeded  up  the  Salado  to  Fort 
McDowell — the  commandant  there  having  heard  of  our 
approach,  and  sent  an  ambulance  to  bring  us.  It  was 
some  fifteen  miles,  part  of  the  way  through  a dreaded 
Apache  canon;  but  we  passed  safely  on,  though  we  did 
not  reach  the  post  until  after  nightfall.  We  found  the 
post — the  largest  and  finest  in  Arizona  — short  of 
rations,  and  wholly  out  of  forage,  as  it  had  been  for 
several  weeks,  because  of  the  spring-  freshets,  as  it  was 


WANTED — A ROAD 


385 


alleged,  though  there  was  plenty  at  Maricopa  Wells, 
which  it  would  seem  might  have  been  got  there,  if  we 
could.  This  was  suggested  to  the  officer  in  charge, 
and  no  doubt  was  well  heeded.  We  remained  there 
until  the  next  afternoon,  inspecting  the  post  and  its 
bearings  (it  seemed  admirably  located  for  its  work, 
well  into  the  Apache  country,  protecting  the  valley  of 
the  Salado  and  the  Gila),  and  then  returned  to  our 
ambulances  at  the  Crossing.  The  next  morning,  by 
sunrise,  we  were  up  and  off,  for  the  Prescott  road — if  we 
could  find  it.  At  Fort  McDowell,  they  told  us,  we  could 
never  reach  it.  Some  said  it  was  thirty  miles  off — others 
claimed  it  was  fifty  or  sixty,  with  an  impassable  country 
between.  The  only  thing  known  definitely  was,  that 
there  was  no  road  at  all  down  the  north  bank  of  the 
Salado,  though  we  were  sure  to  strike  the  regular  Pres- 
cott road,  if  we  kept  along  down  that  bank  of  the  river 
far  enough,  and  could  get  through.  We  might  meet 
Apaches  anywhere,  they  said,  for  it  was  one  of  their 
favorite  tramping  grounds,  or  we  might  go  through 
unmolested,  depending  on  circumstances.  We  had 
expected  to  get  an  escort  of  a dozen  cavalry-men  here,  to 
accompany  us  to  Prescott ; but  six  cavalry -men,  and  six 
mounted  infantry-men,  were  all  the  post  could  spare. 
The  horses  of  these,  though  the  best  on  hand,  were  so 
broken  down  for  want  of  forage,  that  part  were  sent  back 
before  we  got  three  miles  out ; and  of  the  balance,  only 
five  went  through  to  Prescott  with  us,  by  extra  care  and 
regular  feeding  with  the  grain,  which  we  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  bring  along  from  Maricopa  Wells.  An 
army  wagon,  with  a six-mule  team,  also  from  Fort 
McDowell,  furnished  transportation  for  our  escort,  as  the 
cavalry-horses  successively  gave  out. 

For  the  first  fifteen  miles  or  so,  after  leaving  the 

17 


386 


EXPLORING  THE  COUNTRY 


Crossing,  we  found  a well-broken  road,  used  the  year 
before  as  a hay- road  from  the  river-bottoms  to  Fort 
McDowell.  But,  ultimately,  this  ended  in  a bend  of 
the  Salado,  and  from  there  on  all  was  wild  and  un- 
broken— a veritable  terra  incognita.  We  found  the 
Salado  crookeder  than  a ram’s  horn,  or  a mesquite  tree, 
or  anything  else  that  is  most  crooked  and  involved. 
Laying  our  course  partly  by  the  compass,  and  partly 
by  the  Salado’s  fringe  of  cottonwoods,  we  struck  across 
from  bend  to  bend  of  the  river,  sure  only  of  one  thing, 
and  that  was — keeping  near  to  water.  We  found  the 
river  bottoms,  as  a rule,  thick  with  chemisal,  relieved 
here  and  there  by  dense  mesquite  groves,  looking  in  the 
distance  like  old  orchards,  through  which  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  penetrate  with  ambulance  or  wagon.  Now 
and  then  we  had  to  flank  a slough,  or  flounder  through  a 
quicksand,  and  sundown  still  found  us  pushing  along 
through  these  bottoms,  though  we  had  made  fully  thirty 
miles  since  morning.  We  went  into  camp  by  the  river- 
side just  at  dusk,  thoroughly  worn  out,  and  not  without 
a degree  of  anxiety,  as  we  had  crossed  a number  of 
Indian  trails  during  the  day,  though  none  seemed  fresh. 
Our  animals  were  well  blown,  especially  the  cavalry 
horses,  and  the  best  we  could  do  for  them  was  a bite  of 
corn,  as  we  had  no  hay  along,  of  course,  and  it  was  too 
late  to  graze  them. 

The  night  passed  wearily  away,  but  without  cause 
for  alarm,  and  early  next  morning  we  were  again  on  the 
move.  A drive,  or  rather  struggle,  of  three  miles  or  so 
through  the  mesquite  and  chemisal,  brought  us  out  to  an 
ill-defined  track,  bearing  away  in  the  supposed  direction 
of  Wickenburg  (and  so  to  Prescott),  and  we  resolved  to 
take  that,  though  certain  it  was  not  the  regular  road.  W e 
had  heard  of  a “ cut-off,”  or  by-road  somewhere  there, 


AGUA  FRIO — HASSAYAMPA — 


387 


made  by  a Lt.  Du  Bois  some  months  before,  and  we  con- 
cluded this  must  be  his  road.  At  all  events,  we  were 
desperately  tired  of  struggling  through  the  mesquite  and 
chemisal,  and  concluded  we  would  follow  this  track  up 
for  a while  anyhow.  It  was  lucky  we  did  ; for,  after 
rather  too  much  easting  for  the  first  few  miles,  it  finally 
struck  directly  across  the  Agua  Frio,  and  came  into  the 
true  Prescott  road  near  White  Tanks.  This  Agua  Frio, 
usually  one  of  Arizona’s  “ dry  rivers,”  we  found  with 
three  feet  of  water  in  it,  and  bad  quicksands  beneath 
that.  However,  we  discovered  a practicable  crossing, 
and  soon  after  nightfall  reached  the  vicinity  of  White 
Tanks,  some  thirty  miles,  since  morning. 

Here  we  camped  by  the  roadside,  glad  to  have  struck 
the  regular  Wickenburg  or  Prescott  road  at  last,  and  went 
supperless  to  sleep — for  fear  our  fire,  if  made,  might  dis- 
close us  to  the  Indians.  We  could  find  no  water  for  our 
poor  animals,  and  the  next  morning  would  have  missed 
our  accustomed  coffee  even,  had  we  not  taken  the  precau- 
tion to  keep  our  water-kegs  well  filled.  Of  course,  we 
broke  camp  early,  and  moved  wearily  on  to  the  Hassay- 
ampa,  some  ten  or  twelve  miles,  wdiere  we  halted  to  water 
up  and  lunch.  This  Hassayampa,  ordinarily,  is  another 
u dry  river,”  like  the  Agua  Frio,  but  we  found  three  feet 
or  more  of  water  in  it,  and  bottomless  quicksands  nearly 
everywhere.  Our  road,  then  the  only  road  from  South- 
ern to  Northern  Arizona,  ran  directly  up  the  Hassay- 
ampa, for  some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  here,  using  the 
river-bed  as  a roadway,  as  the  only  practicable  route 
through  the  mountains,  and  nobody  had  ventured  through 
for  a month  or  more. 

The  Hassayampa  itself  flows  through  a wild  and 
rocky  canon,  with  high  precipitous  walls  on  either  side  ; 
and  it  was  soon  apparent,  that  our  only  alternative  was 


388 


ARIZONA  QUICKSANDS 


either  to  flounder  through  its  quicksands,  or  retrace  our 
steps  to  Maricopa  Wells.  The  latter  was  out  of  the 
question,  as  our  rations  and  forage  were  both  about  ex- 
hausted, and,  besides,  our  improvised  ferry-boat  had 
returned  to  the  G ila ; so  that  the  only  thing  left  for 
us  was  to  try  the  Hassayampa,  and  get  through,  some- 
how, at  all  hazards.  We  had  heard  of  a trail,  across  the 
ridge  and  over  the  mountains,  by  the  Vulture  Mine, 
and  so  into  Wickenburg,  by  a roundabout  course;  but 
a careful  reconnoissance  revealed  no  trace  of  it.  We 
called  a “ council  of  war,”  and  discussed  the  “ situa- 
tion,” pro  and  con,  with  due  gravity,  and  finally  decided 
that  there  was  nothing  for  us  to  do,  but  to  ascend  the 
Hassayampa ; and  so,  into  it  we  plunged.  And,  verily, 
it  was  a plunge.  Nothing  but  a prolonged  flounder,  and 
plunge,  from  ten  a.  m.  to  six  p.  m.  ! Now  into  the 
stream  ; now  out  on  a sand-bank  ; now  deep  into  a quick- 
sand ; crossing  and  recrossing,  from  side  to  side,  to  take 
advantage  of  any  land — not  less  than  fifteen  or  twenty 
times  in  the  course  of  the  twelve  miles ! Sometimes  a 
cavalry-man  on  horseback,  “ prospecting”  the  way  for  the 
ambulances,  would  go  down,  until  it  seemed  impossible 
to  extricate  him  and  his  horse.  Again,  an  infantry-man, 
on  foot,  would  suddenly  sink  in  to  his  armpits,  and  call 
out  to  his  comrades  to  come  and  rescue  him.  Then  an 
ambulance  would  slip  to  one  side,  and  half  of  it  com- 
mence sinking,  while  the  other  half  remained  on  solid 
ground.  Then  our  six-mule  team  would  go  in,  and  half 
of  the  mules  would  flounder  over  the  tongue,  or  turn  a 
summerset  out  of  the  harness,  and,  perhaps,  come  near 
drowning,  before  they  could  be  extricated,  while  the  rest 
would  be  all  right.  Now  we  would  be  all  ashore,  clam- 
bering along  the  rocky  walls  of  the  canon,  to  give  the 
ambulances  a better  chance  ; and  now,  all  hands  would 


ROADS  AND  BRIDGES  WANTED. 


389 


be  out  into  the  water,  to  start  a stalled  team,  and  then 
such  a whooping  and  shouting,  such  a whipping  and  tug- 
ging at  the  wheels,  one  seldom  sees  equalled.  I cam- 
paigned with  McClellan,  on  the  Peninsula ; I was  with 
Burnside  in  his  Mud  Campaign,  after  Fredericksburg ; we 
had  bad  roads  down  in  Tennessee  and  Georgia,  when 
after  Joe  Johnston  and  Hood.  But  this  tedious  and  toil- 
some drive,  through  the  canon  and  quicksands  of  the 
Hassayampa,  beat  all  these ; and  we  never  would  have  got 
through,  had  we  not  had  light  loads,  and  skilful,  plucky, 
magnificent  drivers. 

As  it  was,  we  just  managed  by  good  luck  to  struggle 
through,  and  got  into  Wickenburg  about  dusk,  with 
our  animals  thoroughly  blown,  and  ourselves  pretty  well 
used  up.  It  had  taken  us  just  a week,  to  come  through 
from  Maricopa  Wells,  usually  a drive  of  a day  or  two 
— or  three,  at  the  farthest.  But  the  Gila  and  Salado 
were  still  unfordable,  and  we  would  have  been  de- 
tained at  the  Wells,  probably,  for  a fortnight  or  more  yet, 
had  it  not  been  for  Louis’  boat.  We  found  we  were  the 
first  party  through  in  a month,  and  nobody  was  expected 
to  venture  the  Hassayampa  either  way,  for  a month  or  so 
to  come.  Of  course,  with  such  rivers  and  roads — rivers 
without  either  bridges  or  ferries,  and  roads  that  follow  the 
beds  of  rivers — our  only  conclusion  was,  that  Arizona  was 
in  no  hurry,  for  either  population  or  business ; and,  I judge, 
this  is  about  so.  She  must  bridge  her  streams,  and  con- 
struct good  substantial  roads — at  least  between  all  chief 
points — before  she  can  expect  to  grow  and  prosper.  This 
is  fundamental  in  all  civilized  communities,  and  she 
would  have  recognized  it  long  since,  had  her  population 
been  more  from  the  busy  Hortli,  than  from  the  indolent, 
happy-go-lucky  South. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


tucson  to  prescott  {continued). 

"YTTHCKEHBURG,  much  longed  for  and  at  last 
V V reached,  we  found  to  be  an  adobe  hamlet,  of  per- 
haps one  or  two  hundred  inhabitants,  depending  chiefly 
on  the  Vulture  Mine.  We  were  all  so  thoroughly  jaded 
and  worn  out,  by  our  rough  ride  through  the  country, 
from  Maricopa  Wells,  that  we  decided  to  halt  there  for 
a day  or  two  to  rest  and  recruit.  This  afforded  us  an 
opportunity  to  visit  the  Mine,  which  we  gladly  em- 
braced, as  we  had  heard  so  much  about  it.  It  is  really  a 
fine  mine  of  gold-bearing  quartz,  off  in  the  mountains, 
some  fifteen  miles  west  of  Wickenburg,  whence  the  ore 
was  then  wagoned  to  the  mill,  on  the  Hassayampa  at 
Wickenburg.  It  consists  of  a fine  vein  of  free  quartz, 
from  five  to  fifteen  feet  wide,  and  mostly  devoid  of  sul- 
phurets,  or  other  refractory  substances.  Seventy  or 
eighty  men — half  of  them  or  more  Mexicans — were  hard 
at  work,  sinking  shafts  and  getting  out  ore ; and  already 
a large  amount  of  work  had  been  done  there.  One  shaft 
was  already  down  a hundred  feet,  and  another  half  as 
far — it  being  intended  to  connect  the  two  by  a lateral 
gallery,  to  insure  ventilation,  etc.  Unfortunately,  no 
water  could  be  found  near  the  mine,  and  all  used  there 
then  was  transported  from  Wickenburg,  at  a cost  of  ten 
cents  per  gallon.  So,  all  the  ore  taken  out  had  to  be 
wagoned,  from  the  mine  to  the  mill  at  Wickenburg, 


THE  VULTURE  MINE  AND  MILL 


391 


at  a cost  of  ten  dollars  per  ton.  The  cost  of  everything 
else  was  about  in  the  same  proportion.  Nevertheless,  we 
were  told  the  mine  paid,  and  that  handsomely,  and  I 
sincerely  trust  it  did. 

The  mill  at  Wickenburg,  belonging  to  the  same  com- 
pany, was  a tine  adobe  structure,  roofed  with  shingles,  and 
had  just  gone  into  operation.  They  had  previously  had  a 
small  five-stamp  mill,  which  paid  very  well ; but  this  new 
mill  ran  twenty  stamps,  and  would  crush  forty  tons  of 
quartz  per  day,  when  worked  to  its  full  capacity.  Their 
ore  was  reputed  to  average  from  fifty  to  seventy  dollars  per 
ton,  though  of  course  “ assaying”  much  more,  and  we  were 
assured  would  pay  for  working,  if  it  yielded  only  from 
twenty  to  thirty,  dollars  per  ton.  If  so,  we  thought, 
stock  in  the  V ulture  Company  must  be  a “ gilt-edged  ” 
investment ; and  their  noble  mine  certainly  was  the  best- 
looking enterprise,  we  had  yet  seen  in  Arizona.  It 
appeared,  however,  to  be  a sort  of  “ pocket”  vein,  as 
prospecting  on  either  side  of  it,  as  yet,  had  failed  to  dis- 
cover other  points  worth  working.  Fine  as  it  was,  the 
mine  was  embarrassed  by  financial  difficulties,  and  was 
then  in  the  hands  of  creditors,  authorized  to  work  it 
until  their  claims  were  met,  though  these  troubles  it  was 
thought  would  soon  end. 

Thence  on  to  Prescott,  via  Skull  Valley,  some  eightv- 
four  miles,  we  passed  without  further  mishap.  We  made 
the  distance  in  two  and  a-half  days,  and  rolled  into  the 
capital,  just  as  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  pur- 
pling the  triple  peaks  of  the  distant  San  Francisco 
Mountains.  The  road  generally  was  naturally  a good 
one,  but  here  and  there  developed  a peculiarity  seldom 
seen  elsewhere.  For  example,  on  a perfectly  good  road, 
apparently,  even  dry  and  dusty,  suddenly  a mule  would 
go  in  to  his  girth  or  a wheel  to  the  hub,  and  there 


392 


SKULL  VALLEY  AND  THE  INDIANS — • 


seemed  no  bottom  to  the  execrable  quicksands.  In  other 
places,  there  had  been  surface-water  or  mud,  that  served 
as  a warning.  But  between  Skull  Valley  and  Prescott, 
when  trotting  along  as  usual,  we  often  struck  spots, 
where  the  dust  was  blowing,  and  yet  when  we  ventured 
on,  our  vehicles  seemed  bound  for  China  or  Japan,  rather 
than  Prescott.  Skull  Valley  itself  proved  to  be  a nar- 
row little  vale,  of  perhaps  a thousand  or  two  acres,  but 
devoid  of  timber,  and  inaccessible  in  all  directions,  except 
over  bad  mountains.  A few  ranches  had  been  started 
here,  and  a petty  Military  Post  was  there  to  protect 
them;  but  this  last  had  already  been  ordered  away,  the 
location  was  so  faulty,  and  with  its  departure,  Skull 
Valley,  as  a settlement,  seemed  likely  to  collapse. 

Here  and  at  Wickenburg  were  the  only  settlements, 
and,  indeed,  the  only  population,  we  found  between  Mari- 
copa Wells  and  Prescott — a distance  of  nearly  three  hun- 
dred miles,  by  the  way  we  came.  The  whole  intervening 
country,  as  a rule,  was  barren  and  desolate,  and  absolutely 
without  population,  except  at  the  points  indicated,  until 
you  neared  Prescott.  There  were  not  even  such  scattered 
ranches,  or  occasional  stations,  as  we  found  in  crossing 
the  Colorado  Desert,  and  ascending  the  Gila;  but  the 
whole  district  seemed  given  over,  substantially,  to  the 
cayote  and  the  Indian.  The  Apaches  and  Yavapais  are 
the  two  main  tribes  there,  and  were  said  to  infest  the 
whole  region,  though  we  saw  nothing  of  them.  In  the 
valley  of  the  Ilassaj’ampa,  and  across  the  Aztec 
Mountains,  they  certainly  had  an  abundance  of  ugly- 
looking  places,  that  seem  as  if  specially  made  for  ambus- 
cades and  surprises.  If  they  had  attacked  us  in  the 
canon  of  the  Ilassayampa,  while  floundering  through 
the  quicksands  there,  they  would  have  had  things  pretty 
much  their  own  way  — at  least,  at  first,  vigilant  as 


bell’s  canon — 


303 


we  were.  They  had  killed  a wandering  Mexican  there, 
only  a few  days  before ; but  we  did  not  know  it,  until 
we  reached  Wickenburg,  and  came  through  ourselves 
unscathed. 

Perhaps  the  worst  place  was  Bell’s  Canon,  a long, 
tortuous,  rocky  defile  — diabolical  in  every  respect  — 
a few  miles  south  of  Skull  Valley.  Here  a Mr.  Bell 
and  others  had  been  killed  by  Apaches,  some  two  years 
before ; and  he^e  also  the  Indian  Agent,  Mr.  Levy,  and 
his  clerk,  had  lost  their  lives,  but  a few  weeks  previously. 
For  miles  there,  the  rocks  have  been  tossed  about  in  the 
wildest  possible  confusion,  and  their  grouping  in  many 
instances  is  very  extraordinary.  A small  band  of  Indians 
there,  ensconced  among  the  rocks,  would  be  able  to  make 
a sharp  fight,  and  nothing  but  cool  heads  and  steady  cour- 
age would  be  likely  to  dislodge  them.  From  the  peaks 
on  either  side,  they  can  descry  travellers  a long  way  off, 
through  the  clear  atmosphere  of  that  rainless  region  ; 
and  should  they  decide  to  attack,  nothing  would  be  easier 
than  to  conceal  themselves  behind  the  massive  boulders, 
that  bristle  along  the  canon.  We  expected  trouble  here, 
if  anywhere  in  Arizona,  and,  as  we  approached  it, 
“ governed  ourselves  accordingly.”  But  the  “ noble  Bed 
men”  allowed  their  “ Pale-face  brothers”  to  pass  in  peace. 
Arizonians  spoke  of  this  villanous-looking  place,  as 
rather  dangerous,  and  didn’t  care  to  venture  through  it 
alone;  but  parties  of  two  and  three  travelled  it  fre- 
quently, and  it  seemed  safe  enough,  if  they  went  well 
armed,  and  kept  a sharp  look  out.  The  trouble  is, 
travellers  in  Arizona,  and  in  all  Indian  districts,  as  a rule, 
see  no  Indians,  and  so  after  a few  days  believe  there  are 
none — become  careless,  wander  on  ahead,  or  straggle 
along  behind,  without  their  arms — when  presto ! sud- 
denly arrows  whiz  from  behind  gigantic  rocks  or  down 
17* 


394 


THE  COUNTRY  GENERALLY 


shadowy  canons,  and  men  are  found  dead  in  the  road, 
with  their  scalps  gone.  In  all  such  regions,  the  only 
safe  rule  is  the  rule  of  our  western  Borderers,  to  wit : 
u N ever  unbuckle  your  six-shooter,  and  never  venture 
from  your  camp  or  train  without  your  Spencer  or 
Henry  ! ” 

As  I have  already  said,  we  found  the  intervening 
country  substantially  unsettled,  and  much  of  it  will 
never  amount  to  anything  for  agricultural  purposes.  Its 
mineral  resources  may  be  great ; but,  as  a rule,  it  lacks 
both  wood  and  water,  and  much  of  it  is  a barren  desert, 
given  over  forever  to  chemisal  and  grease-wood.  On 
the  Agua  Frio  and  Hassayampa,  however,  there  are 
considerable  bottoms,  that  might  be  successfully  irri- 
gated ; and  between  the  Gila  and  the  Salado  there  is 
a wide  district,  that  deserves  some  further  notice. 
As  you  come  up  out  of  the  Gila  bottoms,  you  pass 
through  scattered  mesquite  trees,  and  at  length  enter 
on  a broad  mesa  (Spanish  for  “ table-land  ”),  ten  or 
fifteen  miles  wide  by  thirty  or  forty  long,  which  bears 
every  evidence  of  having  once  been  well  cultivated, 
and  densely  populated.  Instead  of  mesquite,  you  here 
find  clumps  of  chemisal  two  or  three  feet  high,  and  bits 
of  broken  pottery  nearly  everywhere.  Farther  on, 
some  eight  or  ten  miles  from  the  Salado,  you  find 
immense  ruins  in  various  places,  and  soon  strike  a huge 
acequia  winding  up  from  the  Salado,  in  comparison  with 
which  all  the  acequias  we  had  yet  seen  in  Utah  or  Cal- 
ifornia were  the  veriest  ditches.  It  must  be,  I should 
think,  thirty  feet  wide  by  ten  or  twelve  deep,  and  seems 
like  a great  canal  of  modern  times.  Just  where  the  road 
to  Fort  McDowell  crosses  this,  it  subdivides  into  three 
or  four  lesser  acequias , and  these  branch  off  over  the 
mesa  indefinitely.  This  great  acequia  heads  just  above 


ANCIENT  RUINS 


395 


where  we  crossed  the  Salado.  The  river  has  a con- 
siderable descent  or  “ rapids  ” there,  and  the  ancient 
constructors  of  this  gigantic  water-course,  apparently, 
knew  well  how  to  take  advantage  of  this.  They  have 
tapped  the  river  there  by  three  immense  mouths,  all 
leading  into  one  common  channel ; and  this  they  have 
coaxed  along  down  the  bottoms,  and  gently  up  the  bluff, 
until  at  a distance  of  miles  away  it  at  last  gained  the 
level  of  the  mesa , and  there  distributed  abroad  its  fer- 
tilizing waters.  So,  there  are  other  ancient  acequias , 
furrowing  the  bottoms  of  the  Salado  on  either  side, 
though  we  observed  none  so  large  as  this. 

The  ruins  of  ancient  buildings,  thoroughly  disin- 
tegrated, are  scattered  widely  along  these  bottoms,  and 
in  some  places  there  must  certainly  have  been  large 
cities.  The  rectilinear  courses  of  the  walls,  and  the 
dividing  lines  of  the  rooms,  are  all  plainly  visible  still, 
though  nothing  remains  but  the  cobble-stones  and 
pebbles,  out  of  which  they  6eem  to  have  been  mainly 
constructed,  and  here  and  there  a bit  of  cement  or 
mortar.  The  ancient  builders  and  occupiers  of  these 
could  not  have  been  our  present  Indians  there,  because 
they  use  different  forms  and  materials.  They  could  not 
have  been  Mexicans  or  Spaniards,  because  they  invari- 
ably use  brick  or  adobe.  Who  they  were,  where  they 
came- from,  when  they  disappeared  and  why — these  are 
knotty  problems  for  the  antiquarian,  which  it  is  to  be 
hoped  time  will  soon  solve.  One  thing  is  certain,  these 
ancient  builders — Aztecs  (as  popularly  believed)  or  who- 
ever they  were — were  at  least  good  architects  and  engi- 
neers, and  they  must  have  peopled  much  of  Arizona 
with  an  industrious  and  dense  population,  such  as  it  will 
not  see  again — I was  going  to  say — for  centuries  to  come. 
But  the  Salado,  in  those  days,  must  have  been  a larger 


396 


WANTED — A RAILROAD. 


river  than  it  is  now,  or  probably  ever  will  be  again  ; 
because  two  or  three  of  these  old  acequias  would  carry 
off  all  its  present  waters,  and  leave  none  for  the  others, 
whose  remains  yet  furrow  the  country  there  everywhere. 

However,  the  larger  acequias  may  have  been  used  only 
as  receiving  reservoirs,  to  husband  the  spring  freshets, 
and  for  this  purpose  they  might  soon  be  utilized  again. 
However  this  may  be,  there  are  fine  lands  all  along  the 
bottoms  of  the  Salado,  and  enough  water  flowing  there 
yet  to  irrigate  many  thousands  of  acres.  Indeed,  the 
best  lands  we  saw  in  Arizona  are  here  in  the  heart  of  it, 
on  the  Gila  and  Salado,  and  in  time  no  doubt  there  will 
be  flourishing  settlements  there.  What  the  region 
needs,  is  a railroad  to  connect  it  with  “ inside,”  or  civ- 
ilization ; and  this  the  “ Texas  and  Pacific,”  it  seems,  will 
eventually  furnish.  How,  like  so  much  of  Arizona,  it  is 
inaccessible,  or  practically  five  hundred  miles  across  a 
desert — from  about  everywhere.  A railroad  will  remedy 
all  this,  and  stimulate  Arizona  wonderfully  in  many 
ways.  The  whistle  of  the  locomotive  will  end  her  Indian 
troubles,  and  many  others,  and  may  she  hear  it  echoing 
and  re-echoing  among  her  mountains  and  canons  very 
soon  ! A railroad,  indeed,  is  a great  blessing  everywhere ; 
but  in  our  western  territories  it  means  civilization  as 
well,  and  without  one  Arizona  will  evidently  continue 
to  slumber  on,  as  she  has  for  so  many  years. 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 


PRESCOTT,  THE  APACHES,  ETC, 


EESCOTT  had  been  described  to  us,  as  resembling 


very  much  a “ New  England  village.”  We  were  told 
so  in  San  Francisco.  It  was  repeated  at  Fort  Yuma.  It 
was  hinted  at  Tucson.  Well,  perhaps,  it  did,  except  as 
regards  school-houses  and  churches,  white  paint  and 
green  blinds,  general  thriftiness,  and  a wholesome  respect 
for  law  and  order.  Eliminating  these,  Prescott,  perhaps, 
was  quite  New-Englandish  ; but,  otherwise,  it  resembled 
rather  some  country  cross-roads  in  Missouri,  or  Arkansas. 
In  brief,  there  was  not  a school-house,  or  church,  or  bank, 
in  the  place.  Business  we  found  at  a general  stand-still, 
because  of  absolute  stagnation  among  the  mines.  And 
the  peaceable  and  quiet  population  had  just  shown  their 
New-Englandlike  disposition,  by  robbing  and  beating  a 
squad  of  United  States  soldiers — a part  of  those  recently 
sent  out  better  to  protect  that  region — mortally  wounding 
one,  and  severely  injuring  several  others.  Of  course,  the 
Blue-Coats  were  off  duty,  or  the  cowards  wouldn’t  have 
assailed  them. 

Said  I to  an  old  acquaintance  I met,  an  ex-Army  of 
the  Potomac  officer: 

“I  hear  you  have  quite  a New  England  village 
here  ? ” 

“Yes,  indeed,  it  is  very  New-Englandlike!  Last 
night  I was  in  our  billiard-saloon  here.  A game  of 


398 


PRESCOTT 


monte  was  going  on  in  one  corner,  brag-poker  in  another, 
and  a couple  of  dogs  were  having  a free  fight  under  the 
billiard-table.  I lived  in  Boston  once  for  some  time,  but 
have  no  recollection  of  seeing  anything  exactly  like 
that ! ” 

“ But  you  have  a good  class  of  population,  have  you 
not,  as  a general  thing  ? ” 

“ O yes ! Excellent  ! Less  than  five  hundred,  alto- 
gether! But  we  have  ten  drinking-saloons,  and  a dozen 
gambling-hells,  more  or  less  ! What  kind  of  a population 
that  implies,  judge  for  yourself!  ” 

I think  my  friend  was,  perhaps,  somewhat  prejudiced, 
lie  had,  probably,  invested  in  mining  “ feet,”  and  found 
out  he  had  made  a u permanent  investment,”  with  slight 
prospect  of  “ dividends.”  Nevertheless,  Prescott  had 
been  much  overrated  and  bepraised,  and,  consequently, 
suffered  somewhat  in  the  estimation  of  strangers.  We 
found  it  well  laid-out,  on  a scale  of  Magnificent  Distances, 
like  its  illustrious  prototype,  the  National  Capital,  and 
lacking  only — buildings  and  people  to  be  a fine  city.  Its 
site,  though  nearly  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  is  a 
good  one,  along  the  undulating  bottoms  of  Granite 
Creek,  about  a mile  or  so  from  Fort  Whipple,  then  the 
chief  military-post  in  northern  Arizona.  Its  houses  were 
grouped  mostly  around  a spacious  plaza,  after  the  old 
Spanish  custom,  though  a few  straggled  off  into  ragged 
streets  either  way.  They  were  chiefly  of  logs  and  rough 
lumber,  and  guiltless  of  paint,  though  some  brick  and 
adobe  structures  appeared  here  and  there.  The  popula- 
tion seemed  to  be  between  four  and  five  hundred.  The 
autumn  previous,  it  had  been  largely  increased  by  a no- 
table immigration  from  Montana,  which  came  to  Prescott 
with  the  expectation  of  finding  rich  placer  mines,  from 
what  they  had  seen  published  about  the  region.  But 


HER  MINING  PROSPECTS — 


399 


the  most  of  these  had  already  left,  cruelly  disappointed, 
and  others  would  follow,  if  they  had  the  means.  The 
barber,  who  shaved  me  one  day,  proved  to  be  a Montan- 
ian,  from  Helena  City.  I asked  him,  casually,  what  he 
thought  of  Arizona. 

“ Why,  you  see,  stranger,  I pays  for  this  yer  room 
eight  dollars  a month,  in  “ dust.”  For  a room  in  Helena 
City,  of  the  same  size,  I paid  last  summer  seventy-five 
dollars  per  month.” 

“You  mean  that  for  a fair  comparison  of  Arizona, 
with  Montana  ? ” 

“ Sartin  ! Tliet’s  about  it  naow,  you  bet ! Our  fellers, 
who  come  down  yer  with  me  last  fall,  most  all  gone ; 
others  leavin’  every  week.  I’m  goin’  to  vamose,  too, 
’fore  long,  you  bet ! ” 

These  placer  mines  were  scattered  over  a district  of 
ten  or  twelve  miles  around  Prescott,  and  the  truth 
seemed  to  be,  that  as  a general  thing  they  had  produced 
poorly.  It  appeared,  there  were  two  or  three  hundred 
men,  in  all,  engaged  in  them  still,  but  these  were  making 
only  indifferent  wages,  and  many  were  quite  discouraged. 
The  quartz  mines  covered  a much  wider  area,  and  beyond 
question  were  very  rich  in  the  precious  metals ; but  the 
ores  were  sulphurets,  of  the  most  refractory  character, 
and  there  was  no  known  “ process”  to  work  them  at  a pro- 
fit. Eleven  mills,  of  from  five  to  twenty  stamps  each, 
had  been  erected,  at  mines  whose  ores  assayed  from  one 
hundred  to  two  hundred  or  more  dollars  per  ton — an 
excellent  yield,  of  course.  But,  of  all  these,  only  one 
five-stamp  mill  was  then  running — the  Ticonderoga — 
and  that  was  reported  as  only  about  paying  expenses. 
Instead  of  two  hundred  dollars,  or  more,  per  ton,  as  per 
assay,  the  mills  in  fact  could  only  stamp  out  and  save 
from  ten  to  twenty  dollars  per  ton  ; and  this  was  a losing 


400 


POPULATION  GENERALLY 


business.  A new  “ process  ” was  just  being  tried  at  the 
Eureka  Mill,  which  did  excellently  well,  as  per  assay  in 
the  laboratory  ; but  it  was  uncertain  what  would  be  the 
result,  when  applied  to  large  quantities  of  ore  in  the 
mill.  The  Bully-Bueno  and  Sterling  lodes  seemed  to  be 
the  most  in  favor.  Specimens  from  the  Sterling,  that 
were  shown,  were  indeed  wonderful  in  richness,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  no  doubt  that  the  ledges  around 
Prescott  abound  in  mines,  which  will  yield  very  largely, 
if  only  a process  can  be  found  to  treat  successfully  such 
obstinate  and  refractory  sulphurets.  For  the  present, 
however,  mining  operations  about  Prescott  were  very 
“ sick,”  with  poor  prospect  of  speedy  recovery.  The 
region  had  indeed  two  advantages,  very  rare  in  Arizona, 
to  wit,  good  fuel,  and  sufficient  water.  The  breadth  of 
timber  here,  however,  had  been  much  overstated.  An 
area  of  ten  miles  square  or  so  embraced  the  bulk  of  the 
pine,  which  was  an  exceptional  growth  just  there  ; the 
rest  consisted  chiefly  of  scrawny  juniper  and  scraggly 
cedar,  tit  only  for  fuel  and  fencing. 

The  Territorial  capital  was  still  at  Prescott,  but  its 
permanent  location  was  yet  to  be  decided  on.  Maricopa 
Wells  and  Tucson  were  both  contending  for  the  honor, 
and  the  latter  it  seems  has  since  won  it.  Ultimately, 
however,  it  is  probable,  the  Territory  will  divide  on  the 
line  of  the  Gila,  and  Prescott  again  become  the  capital 
of  the  northern  part  of  it.  Arizona  naturally  and 
geographically  subdivides  on  that  line,  and  the  interests 
of  the  two  sections  are  usually  quite  divergent.  The 
population  of  the  territory  was  variously  computed  at 
from  three  to  four  thousand  only,  of  whom  the  major  por- 
tion by  far  were  Mexicans  and  their  descendants.  The 
other  whites  were  mainly  Arkansans  and  Texans,  many  of 
them  no  doubt  exiles  from  the  East,  “for  their  country’s 


THE  APACHES 


401 


good.”  Of  course,  this  was  not  a very  promising  basis 
for  a commonwealth,  and  the  Territory,  it  appeared,  was 
about  at  a stand-still.  As  evidence  of  this,  there  was 
not  then  a bank,  or  banking-house,  or  free-school,  or 
Protestant  church,  or  missionary  even,  throughout  the 
whole  of  Arizona — a region  some  four  or  five  times  as 
large  as  the  great  State  of  New  York.  The  Indian  popu- 
lation was  estimated  at  about  twenty  thousand,  of  whom 
ten  thousand  were  regarded  as  friendly,  five  thousand  as 
hostile,  and  five  thousand  as  half  and  half — that  is,  some- 
times friendly,  and  sometimes  hostile,  depending  on  cir- 
cumstances. To  offset  and  antagonize  these,  the  Gov- 
ernment had  then  about  twenty-five  hundred  regular 
soldiers  in  Arizona,  which  would  seem  sufficient,  if  well 
handled,  though  the  people  of  course  were  clamoring  for 
more.  The  great  controlling  tribe  in  Arizona,  and 
extending  into  New  Mexico,  and  the  terror  of  the 
Mexican  border,  were  the  Apaches.  Those  that  we  saw 
gave  one  the  impression  of  a fierce,  sinewy,  warlike 
race,  very  different  from  the  Plains  Indians,  and  it  was 
plain  there  would  be  no  peace  in  Arizona,  nor  much 
hope  for  its  development,  until  these  Apaches  received  a 
thorough  chastisement.  This  they  had  never  yet  had, 
from  either  Mexicans  or  Americans,  and  consequently  the}' 
despised  and  hated  the  Pale  Faces,  as  we  hate  (or  ought 
to  hate)  Satan  himself.  They  inhabited  the  mountains 
chiefly,  though  they  often  descended  into  the  plains,  and 
in  bands  of  two  or  three,  or  more,  scoured  the  country 
far  and  near,  as  it  suited  them.  About  Tucson  and 
Tubac  they  stole  stock,  and  occasionally  killed  travellers, 
often  within  a mile  or  two  of  the  towns.  Sometimes, 
for  months  together,  they  would  leave  a road  unmolested, 
and  then,  suddenly,  attacking  it  at  different  points,  clean 
out  all  the  ranches.  A few  miles  from  Camp  McDowell, 


402 


THEIR  DARING  EXPLOITS 


on  the  road  between  there  and  Maricopa  Wells,  they 
infested  a rocky  canon  on  the  Rio  Salado,  and  mock- 
ingly defied  all  attempts  to  expel  them.  A fortnight 
before  we  reached  Maricopa  Wells,  en  route  to  Tucson, 
a party  of  them  crossed  the  Salado  and  Gila,  and 
stole  ten  head  of  stock  from  a ranch  only  three  miles 
from  the  Wells.  About  the  same  time,  another  party 
of  three  lurked  around  the  station  at  Blue  Water,  on  the 
road  to  Tucson,  some  fifty  miles  south  of  the  Wells, 
and,  failing  to  find  anything  they  could  steal,  vented 
their  spleen  by  shooting  an  arrow  into  a valuable  horse 
that  was  stabled  safely  from  their  reach.  This  done, 
the  same  night  they  struck  across  the  country,  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  to  the  peaceable  Pimo  settle- 
ments on  the  Gila,  where  they  each  stole  a couple  of 
horses  apiece,  and  made  good  their  escape  with  them  to 
the  mountains. 

Some  of  their  exploits  were  very  amusing,  as  well  as 
very  daring,  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  Osceola  or 
Tecumseh.  We  heard  one  of  a party,  that  had  just  pre- 
ceded us  in  Arizona.  They  camped  at  a station  for  the 
night,  and  thought  their  animals  thoroughly  secure, 
when  they  had  put  them  into  an  adobe  corral,  with  a 
wall  four  or  five  feet  high  by  two  thick,  and  then  lay 
down  themselves  across  the  only  entrance,  with  their 
rifles  by  their  sides.  The  stealthy  Apaches  waited 
until  their  pale-face  friends  were  well  asleep,  and  then 
with  a piece  of  dry  cow-hide,  hard  and  thin,  sawed  out 
a section  of  the  adobe  wall,  at  the  other  end  of  the  cor- 
ral, and  in  the  morning  Los  Americanos  found  them- 
selves horseless  and  muleless.  We  may  “fancy  their 
feelings,”  when  they  discovered  the  opening!  Just  then, 

I fear,  they  would  have  made  poor  Peace  Commissioners  ! 
Especially,  as  they  had  to  foot  it  fifty  miles,  back  to  the 
next  station,  for  new  animals  ! 


THEIR  SHREWDNESS  AND  CUNNING 


403 


There  was  another  story  told  of  a gallant  army  officer, 
who  had  been  out  on  a scout  the  year  before,  and  was 
determined  not  to  lose  a favorite  horse  he  had  along. 
The  Apaches  were  about  thick,  and  the  night  before  had 
stolen  several  animals,  in  spite  of  the  utmost  vigilance. 
To  guard  against  wffiat  he  supposed  even  the  possibility 
of  loss,  the  officer  picketed  his  horse  with  a lariat  to  a 
troe,  and  then  spreading  his  blankets  camped  down  under 
the  tree — at  the  same  time  posting  a sentinel  over  his 
horse,  with  strict  orders  to  watch  faithfully.  Toward 
morning  the  sentry  thought  the  horse  was  a little  farther 
from  the  tree  than  he  should  be ; still,  as  he  saw  nothing 
suspicious,  he  supposed  he  must  be  mistaken  as  to  the 
length  of  the  lariat.  After  walking  a few  more  beats, 
lie  thought  the  horse  was  still  farther  off ; but  it  seemed 
so  little,  and  the  horse  was  so  quiet,  he  did  not  think  it 
right  to  make  an  alarm.  A few  beats  more,  however, 
convinced  him  that  something  must  be  wrong,  as  the 
horse  was  evidently  still  farther  away.  But  now,  simul- 
taneously with  his  challenge,  lo ! an  Apache  sprang 
lithely  upon  the  steed,  and  in  a twinkling  he  was  gallop- 
ing off  through  the  chaparral  and  cactuses,  with  a yell 
of  defiance  at  the  astonished  Blue  Coat!  Creeping 
stealthily  up  in  the  dark,  with  a more  than  cat-like 
caution  and  silence,  he  had  severed  the  lariat,  and  edged 
the  horse  off  little  by  little,  until  at  last  his  capture  was 
sure. 

If  a party  were  strong,  or  not  worth  cleaning  out,  or 
killing,  the  Apaches  usually  gave  them  a wide  berth. 
But  woe  to  those  whom  they  marked  for  their  prey,  if 
not  well  armed,  and  ceaselessly  vigilant.  They  would 
dog  a party  for  days,  with  the  tireless  energy  of  the 
sleuth-hound,  watching  for  an  unguarded  moment  in 
which  to  attack,  and  then  suddenly  pounce  upon  them, 


404 


A SCOUT  AFTER  APACHES 


like  fiends,  as  they  were.  As  a rule,  they  used  bows  and 
arrows  still ; but  many  had  fire-arms,  and  knew  how  to 
handle  them  with  deadly  effect.  We  were  shown  several 
of  their  children,  captured  in  different  fights,  and  they 
were  the  wiriest,  fiercest  little  savages  imaginable.  Sul- 
len, dogged,  resolute  little  Red  Skins,  they  lacked  only 
maturity  and  strength  to  “ make  their  mark  ” on  some- 
body’s head  ; and  this  they  seemed  quite  likely  to  do  yet, 
unless  their  Apache  natures  were  thoroughly  “ recon- 
structed.” They  had  a peculiar  and  pleasant  penchant 
for  setting  fire  to  hay-stacks  and  ranches,  and  on  the 
whole  were  a species  of  population,  that  nobody  but  an 
Arizonian  would  care  much  to  fancy.  They  were  held 
as  servants  in  different  families,  and  their  service  in  too 
many  instances  approximated  to  downright  slavery — so 
much  so,  indeed,  that  the  attention  of  the  Territorial 
authorities  was  already  being  directed  to  the  matter. 

As  if  to  give  us  some  proof  of  their  enterprise  and 
audacity,  a band  of  these  Apaches  made  a raid  near 
Prescott,  the  very  day  we  arrived  there.  They  attacked 
a ranch  only  three  miles  east  of  “ this  Hew-England- 
like”  village,  and  seized  several  cattle  and  drove  them 
off.  A mounted  scout  was  at  once  sent  out  from  Fort 
Whipple,  and  though  they  marched  seventy-five  miles  in 
twenty-four  hours,  thej^  failed  to  come  up  with  the  Red 
Skins.  The  officer  in  command  reported  the  bold  marau- 
ders as  strong  in  numbers,  and  fleeing  in  the  direction  of 
Hell  Canon — an  ugly,  diabolical-looking  place,  some  forty 
miles  east  of  Prescott.  Gen.  Gregg,  then  commanding 
the  District  of  Prescott,  immediately  ordered  out  two 
fresh  companies  of  cavalry,  and,  himself  at  their  head, 
made  a forced  march  by  night,  in  order  to  surprise  them 
in  their  reported  stronghold.  'Next  morning  at  daybreak, 
he  was  at  Hell  Canon,  but  no  Apaches  were  found  there, 


HELL  CANON — 


405 


nor  any  traces  of  them.  After  a brief  halt,  he  ordered 
the  cavalry  to  follow  down  the  canon  to  its  junction  with 
the  Verde,  and  after  scouring  all  the  canons  centering 
there,  to  return  by  a wide  detour  to  Fort  Whipple.  The 
General  himself  now  returned  to  Prescott,  and  I cheer- 
fully bear  witness  to  his  vigor  and  chagrin,  having 
accompanied  him  out  and  back.  A detachment  of  the 
cavalry,  a day  or  two  afterwards,  succeeded  in  finding  a 
rancheria  of  Apaches  in  a villainous  canon,  miles  away  to 
the  southwest  of  the  Verde — a thin  curling  smoke  in  the 
mountains  revealing  their  presence.  The  troops  pushed 
boldly  in,  and  came  suddenly  on  the  rancheria,  or  village, 
before  they  were  discovered.  Dismounting  from  their 
horses,  they  poured  in  a rapid  volley  from  their  Spencer 
carbines,  that  killed  five  Apaches,  and  wounded  twice  as 
many  more.  The  rest  fled,  but  in  a few  minutes  bravely 
rallied,  and  soon  came  swarming  back,  down  the  canon 
and  along  its  rocky  cliffs,  in  such  numbers  and  with  such 
spirit,  that  the  officer  in  command  deemed  it  prudent  to 
fall  back  on  the  main  column.  This  he  succeeded  in 
doing,  but  it  required  a march  of  several  miles,  as  the 
column  had  moved  on  ; and  wffien  he  rejoined,  it  was 
thought  best  for  the  whole  command  to  return  to  Fort 
Whipple,  as  their  rations  and  forage  were  about  exhausted. 
Subsequently,  Gregg  sent  them  out  again,  and  this  time 
they  succeeded  in  damaging  the  Apaches  very  considera- 
bly ; but  it  was  not  long  before  they  were  lurking  about 
the  country  again. 

The  rough  ride  to  Hell  Canon  and  back,  despite 
occasional  snow-squalls,  was  not  unpleasant,  and  not  with- 
out its  interest.  Our  route  in  the  main  was  down  the 
valley  of  Granite  Creek,  and  past  the  site  of  old  Fort 
Whipple,  now  called  Postle’s  Ranch.  Here  was  a fine 
plateau  of  several  hundred  acres,  with  acequias  and  a 


406 


A TYPICAL  EMIGRANT 


petty  grist-mill,  the  whole  used  formerly  by  the  troops; 
but  occupied  now  by  only  a family  or  two.  The  truth 
is,  population  was  too  sparse,  and  the  Apaches  too  plenty, 
to  make  farming  an  agreeable  occupation  just  there.  We 
saw  several  men  at  work  in  the  fields,  as  wre  rode  along, 
all  with  rifles  slung  across  their  backs,  and  the  infrequent 
settlers  protested  they  meant  to  quit  the  country,  as  soon 
as  their  harvests  matured.  The  last  ranch  eastward — 
the  one  most  remote  from  Prescott,  and,  consequently, 
the  very  edge  of  the  frontier  there — was  owned  and  occu- 
pied by  what  may  justly  be  called  a typical  American 
emigrant.  Born  in  New  Jersey,  the  nephew  of  an 
eminent  minister  there,  he  early  emigrated  to  Canada, 
and  thence  to  Michigan.  Here  he  married,  and  soon 
afterwards  emigrated  to  Illinois.  Thence  he  went  to 
Kansas,  and  thence  to  New  Mexico.  Subsequently,  he 
emigrated  to  California,  and  when  he  grew  weary  there, 
as  he  could  “ go  west  ” no  farther,  concluded  to  remove 
to  Arizona.  Here  he  had  been  for  two  years,  with  his 
family,  on  the  very  edge  of  the  border ; but  was  now 
tired  of  the  W est,  and  meditating  a return  East.  He  said 
his  children  were  growing  up,  and  needed  school-houses 
and  churches,  and  he  meant  to  sell  out  and  leave  as  soon 
as  practicable. 

The  country  as  a whole  proved  barren  and  sterile, 
like  so  much  of  Arizona  elsewhere,  though  here  also  the 
Aztecs  (or  whoever  the  ancient  population  were)  had 
left  their  marks,  as  on  the  Salado  and  Gila.  The 
remains  of  edifices,  or  fortifications,  and  acequias,  w’ere 
still  quite  visible  in  various  places,  and  no  doubt  the 
ancient  settlers  had  followed  up  the  rivers,  and  their 
tributaries,  nearly  everywhere.  They  seem  to  have  been 
a pushing,  progressive  people,  bent  on  conquest  and 
civilization,  after  their  kind,  and  doubtless  swayed  the 


FORT  WHIPPLE 


407 


whole  interior  of  the  continent.  At  Point  of  Rocks,  on 
Willow  Creek,  we  halted  for  an  hour  or  two,  to  explore 
the  wonderful  rock-formations  there ; and  subsequently 
dined  with  a settler  on  a wild  turkey,  that  stood  four 
feet  high  and  weighed  forty-three  pounds,  when  first 
shot,  and  about,  thirty  pounds  dressed.  We  were  tired 
and  hungry,  from  long  riding  and  light  rations,  and  you 
may  be  sure  enjoyed  our  meal  to  the  full. 

Fort  Whipple,  already  alluded  to  several  times,  was 
situated  on  Granite  Creek,  a mile  and  a half  east  of  Pres- 
cott, near  the  centre  of  a Reservation  there  a mile 
square.  It  consisted  of  a rude  stockade,  enclosing  the 
usual  log  quarters  and  barracks  of  our  frontier  posts, 
and  was  then  Headquarters  of  all  the  district  north  of 
the  Gila.  Its  garrison  was  small,  and  dependencies  few 
and  petty;  but  the  cost  of  maintaining  it  seemed 
something  enormous.  Here  are  a few  of  the  prices 
then  current  at  the  post : hay  cost  about  sixty  dollars 
per  ton  ; grain,  about  twelve  dollars  per  bushel ; lumber, 
from  fifty  to  seventy-five  dollars  per  thousand ; freight 
on  supplies,  from  San  Francisco  (and  about  everything 
had  to  come  from  there  via  the  Gulf  of  California  and 
the  Colorado),  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  ton ; 
and  these  all  in  coin.  The  flag-staff  alone,  quite  a 
respectable  “ liberty-pole,”  was  reported  to  have  cost  ten 
thousand  dollars ; and  District  Headquarters — a one-and- 
a-half  story  frame  house,  surrounded  by  verandas,  but 
barely  comfortable  and  genteel — was  said  to  have  cost 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  This  last,  plain  as 
it  was,  was  then  about  the  best  modern  edifice  in 
Arizona,  but  was  used  as  the  Post  Hospital  — Gen. 
Gregg  (“  Cavalry  Gregg”  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac) 
in  the  true  spirit  of  a soldier,  declining  to  occupy  it, 
until  his  sick  and  disabled  men  were  first  well  sheltered, 


408 


GEN.  IRVIN  GREGG. 


and  provided  for.  Himself  and  staff,  as  yet,  shared  the 
log  cabins  of  the  Post  proper,  through  whose  open 
crannies  the  wind  and  rain  had  free  course  to  run  and  be 
glorified,  during  every  storm.  We  were  there  during  a 
wild  tempest  of  rain  and  hail,  as  well  as  for  a week  or 
more  besides,  and  learned  well  how  to  appreciate  their 
infelicities  and  miseries.  All  honor  to  this  chivalrous 
and  gallant  Pennsylvanian,  for  his  courtesy  and  human- 
ity. A Bayard  and  a Sydney  combined,  surely  he 
deserves  well  of  his  country ; and  the  Army  may  justly 
be  proud  of  such  a representative  soldier. 


CHAPTER  XXVI.  . 


PRESCOTT  TO  LOS  ANGELOS. 

PRESCOTT,  as  already  intimated,  was  not  Paradise, 
and  we  left  there  April  13th,  for  Los  Angelos,  via 
Hardyville  and  Fort  Mojave,  on  our  return  “ inside,” 
with  real  rejoicing.  Our  first  stage  was  to  Fort  Mojave, 
on  the  Colorado,  distant  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles, 
and  this  wre  made  in  five  days.  Of  course,  we  travelled 
by  ambulance,  and  “camped  out”  every  night,  as  else- 
where mostly  in  Arizona.  The  road  was  a toll-road,  but 
its  general  condition  was  hardly  such,  as  to  justify  the 
collection  of  tolls  ordinarily.  As  a whole,  it  was 
naturally  a very  fair  road,  though  there  were  some  bad 
points,  as  at  Juniper  Mountain  and  Union  Pass,  where 
considerable  work  had  been  required  to  carry  the  grades 
along.  At  Williamson’s  Valley,  twenty  miles  out  from 
Prescott,  we  found  one  of  the  best  agricultural  and  graz- 
ing districts,  that  we  had  yet  seen  in  Arizona.  There 
were  but  two  or  three  settlers  there  then,  though  there 
were  apparently  several  thousands  of  acres  fit  for  farms. 
The  hills  adjacent  abounded  in  scattered  cedars  and  juni- 
pers, that  would  do  for  fencing  and  fuel,  and  game 
seemed  more  abundant  near  there,  than  in  any  place  we 
had  yet  been.  Quails,  found  everywhere  in  Arizona  to 
some  extent,  here  soon  thickened  up  ; the  jack-rabbits 
bounded  more  numerously  through  the  bushes;  even 
pigeons  and  wild-turkeys  were  heard  of;  and  as  we 
18 


4:10 


Williamson’s  valley,  Etc. — 


rattled  down  through  a rocky  glen,  at  the  western  side 
of  the  valley,  a herd  of  likely  deer  cantered  leisurely 
across  the  road — the  first  we  had  seen  in  Arizona,  or 
indeed  elsewhere  in  the  West. 

Thence  across  Juniper  Mountain  to  Rock  Springs,  some 
fifty  miles,  the  country  was  wild  and  desolate,  with  a 
scraggy  growth  of  cedars  and  junipers  much  of  the  way. 
A few  scattered  oaks  and  pines  grew  here  and  there,  but 
they  could  scarcely  be  called  good  timber,  or  much  of  it. 
At  Rock  Springs  was  a fine  bottom  of  several  hundred 
acres,  but  not  a single  inhabitant.  Thence  on  to  Hardy- 
ville,  through  Cottonwood  Canon,  past  Hualapai  Springs, 
Beale’s  Springs,  etc.,  for  nearly  a hundred  miles,  there  were 
no  ranches,  and  no  cultivable  lands,  indeed,  worth  men- 
tioning. The  country,  as  a whole,  seemed  a vast  volcanic 
desert — of  mountains,  canons,  and  mesas — and  what  it 
was  ever  made  for,  except  to  excite  wonder  and  astonish- 
ment, is  a mystery  to  the  passing  traveller.  Even  at  the 
high  elevation  we  were  travelling,  usually  four  or  five 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  the  sun  was  already  in- 
tensely hot  by  day,  though  the  air  grew  bitingly  cold  at 
night,  before  morning.  The  principal  growth,  after 
leaving  Rock  Springs,  was  sage-brush  and  grease-wood, 
and  in  many  places  it  proved  difficult  to  secure  sufficient 
for  fibres  of  even  these.  Water  was  found  only  at  dis- 
tances of  ten  and  twenty  miles  apart,  and  in  the  dry 
summer  months  it  must  be  still  scarcer.  Our  poor  animals 
suffered  greatly,  and  one  day  we  came  near  losing  several 
— two  of  them  continuing  sick  far  into  the  night.  Now 
and  then  we  found  an  Indian  trail  crossing  the  road,  but 
the  Red  Skins  either  did  not  see  us,  or  else  kept  them- 
selves well  under  cover,  intimidated  by  the  half-dozen 
cavalrymen,  that  accompanied  us  as  escort. 

The  prevailing  hues  of  the  landscape  were  a dull  red 


dante’s  inferno — 


4 11 


and  brownish  gray,  and  these  produced  at  times  some  very 
singular  and  striking  effects.  The  one  thing,  that  relieved 
our  ride  from  utter  dullness  and  monotony,  was  the 
weird  and  picturesque  forms,  in  which  nature  has  there 
piled  up  her  rocks,  and  chiseled  out  her  mountains. 
Domes,  peaks,  terraces,  castles,  turrets,  ramparts — all 
were  sculptured  against  the  cloudless  sky ; and  we  fell  to 
interesting  ourselves  sometimes  for  hours,  as  we  rode 
along,  in  tracing  out  the  strange  resemblances  to  all  sorts 
of  architecture  and  animals,  ancient  and  modern,  that 
nature,  in  her  silent  sublimity,  has  perpetrated  there. 
At  sunset,  when  parting  day  lingered  and  played  upon 
the  surrounding  or  distant  mountains,  it  bathed  their 
rock-ribbed  siaes  and  summits  in  the  most  gorgeous  tints 
of  purple  and  maroon,  and  filled  the  imagination  with 
all  that  was  most  sublime  and  mysterious.  What  Milton 
must  have  thought  of  in  portraying  Hell,  or  Dante  im- 
agined in  delineating  the  weird  and  sombre  landscapes 
of  his  awful  Inferno,  may  well  be  realized  in  passing 
through  this  singular  region,  where  Desolation  seems  to 
have  outstretched  her  wings,  and  made  up  her  mind  to 
brood  gloomily  forever. 

At  Union  Pass,  we  crossed  the  last  mountain  range, 
at  an  elevation  of  fully  five  thousand  feet,  whence  we 
caught  welcome  sight  again  of  the  ruby  waters  of  the 
Colorado.  Debouching  into  the  valley,  we  presently 
struck  the  river  at  Hardyville.  Here  it  winds  its 
sinuous  course,  through  a broad  valley  of  volcanic  mesas 
and  mountains,  and  has  no  bottoms  worth  mentioning, 
except  those  occupied  of  old  by  the  Mojave  Indians. 
These  are  fertilized  by  the  annual  overflow  of  the  Col- 
orado, like  the  bottoms  of  the  Nile,  and  no  doubt  might 
be  made  to  produce  very  largely.  As  it  was,  the 
Mojaves  scratched  them  a little,  so  as  to  plant  some  corn 


412 


MOJAVE  INDIANS 


and  barley,  and  raise  a few  beans,  vegetables,  etc.,  the 
surplus  of  which  they  sold  chiefly  at  Hardyville,  for  Mr. 
Hardy  to  re-sell  to  the  Government  again — of  course,  at 
a profit.  It  seemed,  on  the  whole,  that  they  did  not 
usually  raise  enough,  off  of  all  their  broad  acres,  to  feed 
and  clothe  themselves  comfortably  ; and  we  were  told 
they  would  often  go  hungry,  were  it  not  for  the  gratu- 
itous issues  of  flour,  meal,  and  other  supplies  occa- 
sionally made  to  them  by  the  commanding  officer  at 
Fort  Mojave.  We  rode  through  their  villages  one 
evening,  while  halting  at  Fort  Mojave,  and  found  they 
numbered  about  a thousand  or  so  just  there ; but  farther 
down  the  Colorado,  at  La  Paz,  there  was  said  to  be 
another  branch  of  them,  even  more  numerous.  They 
were  usually  a shapely,  well-made  race,  and  seemed  to 
take  life  even  more  easy,  if  possible,  than  their  red 
brethren  elsewhere.  Their  women  made  a rude  pottery 
ware,  that  seemed  in  general  use  among  them,  and  the 
men  themselves  sometimes  labored  commendably,  in  gath- 
ering drift-wood  for  fuel  for  the  petty  steamers,  that  occa- 
sionally ascended  to  Hardyville.  These  Mojaves  had  been 
quiet  and  peaceable  for  years,  and  it  seemed  very  mod- 
erate efforts  would  put  them  on  the  road  to  civilization, 
as  readily  as  the  Choctaws  and  the  Cherokees.  But 
they  complained,  and  quite  justly,  that  the  Government 
did  not  furnish  them  implements,  tools,  seeds,  etc.,  to 
enable  them  to  work  their  lands  and  support  themselves, 
while  the  savage  Hualapais,  Pai-Utes,  and  other  hostile 
tribes,  were  being  constantly  bribed  with  presents  and 
annuities.  This,  however,  was  only  another  instance 
of  the  stupidity  and  blundering  of  our  Indian  Depart- 
ment at  that  time,  whose  policy,  or  rather  impolicy, 
seemed  to  be  to  neglect  friendly  Indians,  and  exhaust  its 
money  and  efforts  on  hostile  ones,  under  the  plea  of 


FORT  MOJAVE  AND  IIARDYVILLE — 


413 


“pacifying”  them!  As  if  “gifts”  and  “annuities” 
ever  really  pacified  or  civilized  a Red  Skin  yet,  or  ever 
will ! No ; the  only  true  policy  with  our  Indians,  then 
as  now,  is  to  encourage  and  reward  the  friendly,  in 
every  right  way ; while  the  hostile  ones  should  be  turned 
over  to  the  Army,  for  chastisement  and  surveillance, 
to  the  uttermost,  until  they  learn  the  hard  lesson,  that 
henceforth  they  must  behave  themselves. 

Fort  Mojave,  some  four  miles  or  so  below  Hardy- 
ville,  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Colorado,  wras  a rude  post, 
most  uncomfortable  every  way.  It  had  been  established 
originally  in  1860,  abandoned  in  1861,  but  re-occupied 
in  1864,  and  maintained  since  then.  We  found  it  hot, 
and  dusty,  and  miserable,  even  in  April ; and  could  well 
imagine  what  it  must  be  in  July  and  August.  At  Pres- 
cott, we  were  some  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  ; but 
here  we  had  got  down  to  only  about  eleven  hundred,  and 
the  change  was  most  perceptible.  Here  were  a handful 
of  troops,  and  two  or  three  officers,  all  praying  for  the 
day  when  they  might  be  ordered  elsewhere,  assured  that 
fortune  could  send  them  to  no  worse  post,  outside  of 
Alaska.  One  officer  had  his  wife  along,  a lady  delicately 
bred,  from  Pittsburg,  Pa.,  and  this  wTas  her  first  experi- 
ence of  Army  life.  When  we  first  arrived,  she  tried  to 
talk  cheerily,  and  bore  up  bravely  for  awhile  ; but  before 
wre  left,  she  broke  down  in  tears,  and  confessed  to  her 
utter  loneliness  and  misery.  No  wonder,  when  she  was 
the  only  white  woman  there,  no  other  within  a hundred 
miles  or  more ; and  no  newspaper  or  mail  even,  except 
once  a month  or  fortnight,  as  things  happened  to  be. 

Hardy  ville  itself  was  then  more  of  a name  than  place, 
consisting  chiefly  of  a warehouse  and  quartz-mill,  with 
a few  adobe  shanties.  Near  Hardyville,  some  ten  or 
twenty  miles  away  in  the  outlying  mountains,  there 


414 


Arizona’s  chief  drawback — 


were  several  mines — gold,  silver,  and  copper — of  more 
or  iess  richness,  and  the  mill  was  located  here  to  take 
advantage  of  the  two  great  essentials,  wood  and  water. 
The  mill,  however,  was  standing  idle,  like  most  enter- 
prises in  Arizona,  and  but  little  was  doing  in  the 
mines.  Mr.  Hardy  himself,  a hard-working  energetic 
man,  and  the  Ben  Holliday  or  Gen.  Banning  of  that 
region,  controlling  all  its  business,  including  Govern- 
ment contracts,  from  the  Colorado  to  Prescott  and 
beyond,  was  getting  out  some  ore,  and  specimens  we 
saw  at  his  store  were  certainly  very  handsome.  He  said 
there  were  “leads”  in  the  neighboring  mountains  of 
exceeding  richness,  and  indeed  here  and  at  other  similar 
points  along  the  Colorado,  as  at  La  Paz,  Aubrey  City, 
El  Dorado  Canon,  etc.,  there  seemed  the  best  chances 
for  mining  of  anywhere  in  Arizona.  Here  were  wood 
(drift-wood,  in  which  the  Colorado  abounds)  and  water, 
the  two  great  needs,  usually  wanting  elsewhere  in 
Arizona-;  and  the  Colorado  itself,  it  would  seem,  ought 
to  afford  reasonably  cheap  and  quick  transportation,  if 
the  steamboats  on  it  were  constructed  and  run  with 
proper  enterprise  and  efficiency. 

The  great  drawback  to  Arizona  then,  overshadowing 
perhaps  all  others,  not  excepting  the  Apaches,  was  the 
perfectly  frightful  and  ruinous  dost  of  transportation. 
To  reach  any  mining-district  there  from  California, 
except  those  along  the  Colorado,  you  had  to  travel  from 
three  to  live  hundred  miles  through  what  are  practically 
deserts  ; and  for  every  ton  of  freight  carried  into  or  out 
of  the  Territory,  you  were  called  on  to  pay  from  three 
to  five  cents  per  pound,  per  hundred  miles,  in  coin.  Gol- 
conda,  itself,  could  not  flourish  under  such  circumstances, 
much  less  Arizona — which  is  scarcely  a Golconda.  The 
patent  and  palpable  remedy  for  all  this,  was  either  a rail- 


RIO  COLORADO  AGAIN 


415 


road  or  the  speedy  and  regular  navigation  of  the  Colorado. 
It  seemed  nonsense  to  say  that  the  Colorado  could  not 
be  navigated,  and  that  too  at  rates  reasonably  cheap.  It 
looked  no  worse  than  the  Ohio  and  the  Missouri,  and  like 
western  rivers  ordinarily  ; and  there  appeared  but  small 
hope  for  Arizona  very  speedily,  until  she  availed  herself 
to  the  full  of  its  actual  advantages.  With  the  alleged 
mines  along  the  Colorado,  from  Ft.  Yuma  to  El  Dorado, 
in  good  operation,  her  population,  as  it  increased,  would 
naturally  overflow  to  other  districts;  and,  in  the  end,  arid 
Arizona  would  become  reasonably  prosperous.  But,  like 
all  other  commonwealths,  she  must  have  a base  to  stand 
on  and  work  from.  That  base  seemed  naturally  and 
necessarily  the  Colorado  River,  indifferent  as  it  was. 
And  all  attempts  to  develop  herself,  except  from  that,  in 
the  absence  of  a railroad,  seemed  likely  to  end  like  the 
efforts  of  the  man, who  tried  to  build  a pyramid  with  the 
apex  downward.  History  declares  it  was  not  a “ success.” 

Bidding  good-bye  to  our  friends  at  Fort  Mojave,  we 
crossed  the  Colorado  on  a rude  flat-boat,  on  the  evening 
of  April  18th,  and  proceeded  three  miles  to  Beaver  Lake 
where  we  camped  for  the  night,  in  order  to  get  a 
good  start  next  day.  We  dismissed  our  escort  at  Fort 
Mojave,  as  no  longer  necessary ; and,  Gov.  McCormick 
and  wife  having  left  us  at  Prescott,  our  little  party 
was  now  reduced  to  two  and  our  drivers.  Col.  Carter, 
Secretary  of  the  Territory,  had  accompanied  us  from 
Prescott  to  Mojave ; but  here  he  left  us  for  a trip  up 
the  Colorado,  intending  to  push  into  the  Big  Canon, 
if  possible.  Subsequently,  I learned,  he  failed  in  doing 
this  ; but  the  fault  was  not  his,  and,  for  the  present,  we 
bade  him  speedy  success  and  a safe  return. 

From  Fort  Mojave,  on  the  Colorado,  to  Los  Angelos 
was  still  about  three  hundred  miles,  and  this  we  accom- 


416 


CHANGES  OF  ELEVATION 


plished  in  eight  days.  The  valley  or  great  basin 
of  the  Colorado  extends  most  of  the  distance,  and  of  the 
intervening  country,  as  a whole,  the  most  that  can  be 
said  of  it  is,  that  it  is  an  absolute  desert  of  extinct  volca- 
noes and  outstretched  sand-plains,  fit  only  for  tarantulas 
and  centipedes,  rattlesnakes  and  Indians.  As  far  as 
could  be  seen,  I think  this  a fair  and  truthful  statement 
of  pretty  much  all  that  region  to  Cajon  Pass,  and  don’t 
see  how  it  can  well  be  objected  to,  by  any  honest  mind. 
Its  changes  of  elevation  are,  indeed,  something  very 
curious.  At  Fort  Mojave,  on  the  banks  of  the  Colorado, 
you  are  only  about  a thousand  feet  above  the  sea. 
Thence,  for  ten  or  twelve  miles,  you  steadily  ascend, 
until  you  get  where  the  view  of  the  Colorado  Yalley  pro- 
per becomes  something  really  sublime — a barren  ocean, 
a sea  of  desolation,  with  a line  of  living  green  meander- 
ing through  the  centre — and  at  Pai-UteHill,  only  some 
thirty  miles  from  the  Colorado,  you  reach  an  elevation 
of  some  four  thousand  feet.  At  Government  Holes, 
indeed,  you  get  up  to  5,204  feet ; but  at  Soda  Lake, 
about  a hundred  miles  from  Fort  Mojave,  you  descend 
again  to  1,075  feet,  or  seventy-four  feet  lower  than  the 
Colorado  itself.*  From  here  you  climb  back  to  1,852 
feet  at  Camp  Cady,  some  forty  miles  from  Soda  Lake ; 
2,678  feet  at  Cottonwood  Ranch,  some  eighty  miles 
from  Soda  Lake ; and  gradually  get  up  again  to  5,000 
feet  at  Cajon  Pass,  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
from  Soda  Lake.  These  ascents  and  descents  usually 
are  not  sudden,  nor  indeed  much  perceptible;  but  grad- 
ually you  roll  up  and  down  over  a vast  desert  region, 

* Hence  the  recent  proposition  to  turn  the  Colorado  thither  and 
convert  all  this  district,  including  the  Yuma  or  Colorado  Desert,  into 
a great  lake  or  inland  sea.  It  seems  hardly  feasible  in  this  genera- 
tion ; but,  possibly,  may  happen  in  the  future. 


RATTLESNAKES,  CENTIPEDES,  ETC. 


417 


where  the  sun  was  already  (in  April)  intensely  hot  by 
day,  and  getting  to  be  fairly  warm  at  night. 

In  the  long  drives  by  day,  sometimes  forty  and  fifty 
miles — to  reach  water — the  heat  and  glare  from  the 
sand  became  terrible  to  the  eyes,  and  twice  we  drove  all 
night,  lying  by  in  the  day,  to  avoid  this.  By  day,  we 
usually  sa^v  no  live  thing,  except  here  and  there  a stray 
buzzard,  or  scampering  lizard,  or  horned  toad.  By  night, 
we  would  hear  the  rattlesnakes  hiss  and  rattle,  as  we 
drove  along — our  “ outfit  ” as  we  rattled  by,  I suppose, 
disturbing  their  quiet  siestas,  or  moonlight  promenades. 
It  was  too  early  in  the  season,  however,  to  be  troubled 
much  with  such  interesting  acquaintances  as  rattlesnakes, 
tarantulas,  centipedes,  etc.  They  were  but  just  begin- 
ning to  come  out  of  their  holes,  and  w*e  wrere  glad  to 
escape  from  the  country  before  they  ventured  forth  much. 
We  saw,  indeed,  some  centipedes,  and  killed  several 
rattlesnakes.  One  night  one  of  the  party  wroke  up,  and 
found  something  reposing  snugly  on  the  outside  of  his 
blankets.  Giving  it  a kick  and  sling  from  underneath,  it 
proved  to  be  a snake,  and  answered  him  back  from  the  place 
where  it  landed,  with  the  usual  inevitable  hiss  and  defiant 
rattle.  Another  night,  at  Soda  Lake,  wdiile  sleeping  by 
the  rocks  there,  a rattlesnake  crawded  under  the  bottom 
blankets,  and  in  the  morning  wThen  the  owner  of  them 
began  to  yawn  and  stretch  himself,  preparatory  to  getting 
up,  his  snakeship  from  beneath  hissed,  and  rattled,  and 
protested,  as  badly  as  a northern  copperhead  or  a south- 
ern rebel  at  the  Proclamation  of  Emancipation,  or  the 
Reconstruction  measures  of  Congress.  Of  course,  we 
all  slept  on  the  ground  every  night,  ex  necessitate  / but, 
after  this,  we  usually  retired  writh  all  our  clothes  and 
tallest  boots  on ! 

Pai-Ute  hill,  so-called  (before  spoken  of),  is  really  a 
t8* 


418 


PAI-UTE  HILL 


sharp  and  ugly  little  mountain,  up  which  we  toiled  slowly 
and  wearily.  In  rounding  an  angle  of  the  road,  soon 
after  beginning  the  ascent,  one  of  our  ambulances  slid- 
ing struck  a rock,  and  soon  like  the  famous  “ One  Hoss 
Shay,”  ended  in  a u general  spill ! ” There  could  hardly 
have  been  a more  thorough  collapse  of  spokes  and  felloes 
— everything  seemed  to  go  to  pieces — and  it  could  hardly 
have  occurred  in  a worse  place.  It  was  a wild  and  des- 
olate  canon,  barren  and  rocky,  miles  away  from  every 
human  habitation  ; yet  there  was  nothing  for  it,  but  to 
leave  the  driver  in  charge,  and  the  rest  of  us  proceed  on 
to  Camp  Rock  Springs,  whence  we  sent  an  army-wagon 
back  to  gather  up  the  remains  and  bring  them  on. 
Camp  Rock  Springs  itself  was  a forlorn  military  post, 
consisting  of  one  officer  and  perhaps  a dozen  men,  guard- 
ing the  Springs  and  the  road  there.  The  officer  was 
quartered  in  a natural  cave  in  the  hillside,  and  his  men 
had  “ hutted  ” themselves  out  on  the  sand  the  best  they 
could.  No  glory  there,  nor  much  chance  for  military 
fame ; but  true  patriots  and  heroes  were  they,  to  submit 
to  such  privations.  Too  many  of  our  frontier  posts  are 
akin  to  this,  and  little  do  members  of  Congress  east,  who 
know  only  “ the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war,” 
imagine  what  army-life  out  there  really  is.  It  is  a poor 
place  for  fuss  and  feathers,  gilt  epaulets  and  brass  buttons ; 
and  our  “ Rome  Guard,”  holiday  Militia  east,  so  fond  of 
parading  up  and  down  our  peaceful  streets,  with  full 
rations  and  hotel  quarters,  would  soon  acquire  for  soldier- 
ing there  only  a rare  and  infinite  disgust.  Yet  these  are 
the  nurseries  of  the  Army,  and  from  such  hard  schools 
we  graduated  a Grant  and  Sherman,  Sheridan  and 
Thomas. 

Soda  Lake,  already  mentioned,  is  simply  a dried-up 
lake,  or  sea,  whose  salts  of  soda  effloresce  and  whiten  the 


SODA  LAKE 


419 


ground,  like  snow,  for  miles  in  every  direction.  The 
country  there  is  a vast  basin,  rimmed  around  with  deso- 
late hills  and  mountains,  and  during  the  rainy  season  a 
considerable  body  of  water,  indeed,  collects  here.  Soon, 
however,  evaporation  does  its  work,  and  the  Lake  proper 
subsides  to  little  or  nothing,  worth  speaking  of.  When 
we  were  there,  it  was  said  to  be  twenty  miles  long,  by 
four  or  five  wide,  though  of  course  everywhere  very 
marshy  or  shallow.  Skirting  the  borders  of  it,  we 
reached  a rocky  bluff  on  (I  think)  the  northern  shore, 
and  there  found  a noble  spring  of  excellent  water,  well- 
ing up  of  from  unknown  depths,  within  a stone’s  throw 
of  the  soda  deposits.  Here  was  the  usual  halting-place, 
and  as  we  had  driven  all  night,  we  went  into  camp  on 
arriving  there,  soon  after  sunrise.  It  was  Sunday,  April 
21st;  there  was  no  house  or  even  hut  there;  no  person 
or  living  thing ; and  what  with  the  heat,  and  glare,  and 
awful  desolation — our  weariness,  fatigue,  and  sense  of 
isolation — I think  it  was  about  the  most  wretched  and 
miserable  day  I ever  spent  anywhere.  To  crown  all, 
during  the  night  before,  while  jogging  along,  we  had 
descried  what  we  supposed  to  be  an  Indian  camp-fire,  off 
to  the  south  of  the  road  some  distance;  we  had  driven 
quietly  but  hastily  on,  getting  the  utmost  out  of  our 
jaded  mules  ; but  whether  the  Red  Skins  were  asleep,  or 
had  discovered  and  were  now  dogging  us,  awaiting  their 
opportunity,  we  were  blissfully  ignorant.  We  passed 
the  hours  away,  as  best  we  could,  sleeping  and  watching 
in  turn;  but  the  next  morning,  bright  and  early,  we  were 
up  and  off  for  Camp  Cady.  We  would  have  departed, 
indeed,  by  night ; but  the  route  lay  largely  up  the  dis- 
gusting canon  of  the  Mojave,  and  was  impracticable  in 
the  dark.  This  was  the  only  sign  of  hostile  Indians  we 
saw  en  route  from  the  Colorado.  We  could  hardly  call  it 


420 


MOJAYE  RIVER 


a genuine  “ scare ; ” and  yet  were  not  greatly  grieved, 
when  we  found  they  had  given  us  a wide  berth. 

Some  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  beyond  Soda  Lake,  we 
struck  the  Mojave  River,  so-called,  which  there  runs  for 
several  miles  through  a narrow  and  rocky  canon,  much 
similar  to  that  of  the  Ilassayampa,  though  its  walls  are  not 
so  high.  The  road  itself  leads  up  this  canon,  for  lack  of  a 
better  route  over  and  through  the  mountains  there,  and 
on  first  view,  it  promised  to  be  the  Ilassayampa  over 
again  ; but,  fortunately,  the  bottom  is  chiefly  gravel  and 
rock,  and  therefore  has  not  the  same  disagreeable  habit 
of  “ dropping  out,”  when  you  venture  over  it.  We 
found  from  one  to  two  feet  of  water  in  the  Mojave  here, 
and  crossed  it,  I suppose,  at  least  thirty  or  forty  times 
between  there  and  Camp  Cady — within  say  twenty 
miles.  Two  days  afterward,  when  we  crossed  it  for  the 
last  time,  farther  up,  at  what  is  called  the  Upper  Cross- 
ing of  the  Mojave,  we  found  it  two  feet  deeper  than  it 
had  been  a hundred  miles  below,  and  with  more  than 
twice  the  volume  of  water.  Our  famous  Pathfinder,  in 
one  of  his  great  expeditions,  struck  it  near  here,  at 
freshet  height,  and  it  is  said  reported  the  Mojave  as 
“ an  important  tributary  of  the  Colorado,  navigable 
for  light-draft  steamboats  several  months  in  the  year.” 
He  would  have  been  partly  right,  perhaps,  if  the  Mojave 
indeed  continued  on  to  the  Colorado.  But  unfortunately, 
it  sinks  in  the  desert,  long  before  it  gets  there  ; and  the 
enthusiastic  explorer’s  “ light-draft  steamboats  ” w^ould 
have  to  go  paddling  across  a broad  expanse  of  sand  and 
rock,  if  they  wanted  to  voyage  from  the  Mojave  to  the 
Colorado,  or  vice  versa!  The  Mojave,  in  fact,  although 
draining  the  snow-capped  San  Bernardino  Mountains, 
and  a wide  stretch  of  country  there,  is  only  another  of 
the  many  strange  anomalies  that  one  meets  with  in 


A DISMAL  RANCHMAN 


421 


Southern  California  and  Arizona.  Said  a ranchman  in 
that  region  : 

“ Dis  yer’s  a quar  country,  stranger,  you  bet ! All 
sorts  of  quar  things  out  yer.  Folks  chop  wood  with  a 
sledge-hammer,  and  mow  grass  with  a hoe.  Every  bush 
bears  a thorn,  and  every  insect  has  a sting.  The  trees 
is  pretty  nigh  all  cactuses.  The  streams  haint  no  water, 
except  big  freshets.  The  rivers  get  littler,  the  furder 
they  run  down.  No  game  but  rabbits,  and  them's  big  as 
jackasses.  Some  quails,  but  all  top-knotted,  and  wild  as 
greased  lightning.  No  frost;  no  dew.  Nobody  kums 
yer,  unless  he’s  runnin’  awTay.  Nobody  stays,  unless  he 
has  to.  Everybody  4 vamoses  the  ranch,’  4 cuts  stick,’ 
4 absquatulates,’  as  soon  as  he  kin  raise  nutf  k dust  ’ to 
4 git  up  and  git  ’ with.  You  bet — ye  ! Sure ! ” 

ft  is  due  to  truth  to  say,  that  our  friend  had  just  got 
up  from  the  44 break-bone”  fever,  and  was  still  troubled 
with  the  44  shakes.”  Ilis  mine  had  44  petered  out,”  and 
his  44  outfit”  was  about  44gone  up.”  In  fact,  he  looked, 
and  I have  no  doubt  felt,  slightly  dismal — not  to  put  too 
tine  a point  upon  it.  But  I give  his  opinion,  as  he  gave 
it  to  us;  and  the  reader  must  take  it  cum  grano  satis — 
as  much  or  little  as  lie  chooses.  In  truth,  we  have  a vast 
region  there,  that  as  a whole  is  simply  barren  and  worth- 
less, and  that  will  never  be  utilized  or  seriously  amount 
to  much,  until  the  rest  of  the  continent  is  well  occupied 
and  settled  up.  We  may,  of  course,  regret  it;  but  that 
is  about  the  truth  of  things,  and  emigrants  thither  soon 
discover  it. 

Beyond  Camp  Cady,  another  rude  post,  much  like  Rock 
Springs,  we  found  a few  ranches  scattered  here  and  there 
along  the  Mojave ; but  they  were  importing  grain  and  hay 
fifty  and  a hundred  miles,  from  San  Bernardino  and  Los  An- 
gelos, for  sale  to  passing  teams  and  travellers,  which  looked 


422 


CAJON  PASS- 


as  if  their  prospects  were  not  very  flattering.  There  ought, 
however,  to  be  some  good  farms  there,  if  the  Mojave 
were  properly  utilized ; and  doubtless  this  will  be  done 
soon,  if  it  has  not  been  already. 

At  Cajon  Pass,  through  the  lofty  Coast  Range,  you 
quickly  run  down  from  live  thousand  feet  above  the  sea> 
to  about  one  thousand  feet  at  San  Bernardino,  or  even 
less.  The  descent  is  through  a wild  and  picturesque 
canon,  that  almost  equals  in  grandeur  and  sublimity  the 
far-famed  Echo  Canon  of  Utah.  We  camped  all  night 
near  the  foot  of  the  Pass,  sleeping  so  soundly  that  several 
mounted  deserters  * from  Fort  Mojave  passed  us  un- 
heeded, and  the  next  morning,  bright  and  early,  we  rolled 
into  San  Bernardino.  Here  was  a well-laid  out  and  tol- 
erably built  town,  of  a thousand  or  so  inhabitants,  with  a 
newspaper,  telegraph,  and  most  modern  improvements. 
It.  reminds  one  of  Salt  Lake  City,  and  was,  indeed,  pat- 
terned after  that  gem  of  the  mountains,  being  settled 
originally  by  the  Mormons  many  years  ago,  when  they 
planned  a route  through  here  to  the  Pacific  at  San  Diego. 
We  remained  here  but  a few'  hours,  and,  as  the  wTeat,her 
was  already  becoming  warm,  started  the  same  evening  for 
Los  Angelos,  some  sixty  miles  north,  where  we  arrived 
late  next  morning. 

The  country  just  now  (April  26th),  between  Cajon 
Pass  and  Los  Angelos,  wTas  beautiful  and  glorious  beyond 
description.  I scarcely  know  how  to  speak  of  it  in  fit- 
ting terms,  but  I remember  well  how  it  impressed  us  at 
the  time.  The  Los  Angelos  Plains,  seventy  miles  long  by 
thirty  wide,  were  one  wild  sea  of  green  and  yellow,  pink 

* They  were  our  escort  from  Prescott,  whom  we  had  dismissed 
at  Mojave,  with  orders  to  return  as  soon  as  rested.  But,  it  seems, 
the  poor  fellows  were  tired  of  Arizona,  and  as  they  were  so  far  on 
their  way  “ inside,”  concluded  to  continue  thither  1 


LOS  ANGELOS  PLAINS 


423 


and  violet — herbage  and  flowers  everywhere.  Thousands 
of  lusty  cattle  and  contented  sheep  roamed  over  them 
at  will ; but  not  one  herd  or  flock,  where  there  ought  to 
be  a score  or  hundred.  The  vineyards  were  all  putting 
forth  their  leafy  branches,  and  preparing  for  their  purple 
clusters.  The  fields  were  heavy  with  barley  and  wheat. 
The  olive  and  walnut  orchards  were  clad  in  foliage  of 
densest  green.  The  orange  groves  were  everywhere 
filling  the  air  with  their  delicate  and  delicious  fragrance, 
so  exquisitely  sweet  and  ethereal  it  seemed  as  if  distilled 
from  heaven.  Ten  thousand  u beautiful  birds  of  song  ” 
flitted  and  twittered,  from  bush  to  tree,  as  we  drove  along. 
On  the  west  rolled  the  blue  Pacific  ; on  the  east  rose  the 
noble  Coast  Range ; and  over  all,  like  a celestial  bene- 
diction, hung  the  California  sky — a superb  sapphire  we 
never  see  East.  The  setting  sun  lit  up  the  distant  hills, 
as  we  gazed,  and  now  clothed  with  crimson  and  gold — 
an  ineffable  glory  of  splendors — the  snow-clad  peaks, 
that  towered  to  the  north  and  east.  Up  there  was  the 
frozen  zone,  most  of  the  year  round ; but  down  on  the 
Plains,  the  balmy  zephyrs  of  the  tropics,  and  nature 
literally  one  wild  scene  of  beauty  and  of  glory. 

The  transition  from  the  Mojave  Desert,  and  Arizona 
generally,  to  this  delightful  region,  was  like  coming  into 
Eden — seemed  like  “ Paradise  Regained,”  in  very  truth. 
As  we  emerged  from  the  mountains  at  Cajon  Pass,  and 
drove  down  into  it,  we  could  scarcely  refrain  from  shout- 
ing for  joy.  Our  animals  whinnied,  pricked  up  their 
ears,  and,  jaded  as  they  were,  trotted  along  with  a new- 
found speed.  Poor  beasts,  faithful  donkeys,  we  had  driven 
some  of  them  fully  fifteen  hundred  miles,  “ outside  ” and 
“ inside,”  forth  and  back.  Just  to  think  of  it  once,  plenty 
of  good  water,  fresh  green  grass,  and  a moist  and  fragrant 
atmosphere  once  more ! No  more  blazing  sun ; no 


424 


OUT  OF  THE  WILDERNESS. 


more  glaring  sand ; no  more  alkali  streams  ; no  more 
thorny  mesquite  and  prickly  cactus ; no  more  Apaches 
and  Hualapais,  Pai-Utes  and  Chemehuevis  ; no  more  scan- 
ning every  bush  and  rock  by  day,  and  listening  intently 
to  every  sound  by  night ; no  more  riding  with  rifles  in 
our  hands,  no  more  sleeping  on  our  arms  ; no  more 
bottomless  quicksands ; no  more  fear  of  rattlesnakes 
and  centipedes  ; no  more  freshets,  and  no  more  sand- 
storms. No  ! The  long  drag  of  fifteen  hundred  miles 
was  over,  and  once  more  we  struck  hands  with  civiliza- 
tion and  school-houses — touched  steam-ships  and  tele- 
graphs. 

Yerily,  we  had  a right  to  sing  “ Out  of  the  Wilder- 
ness,” and  “ Home  again,”  with  infinite  gusto  ; and  it 
is  not  surprising,  that  with  these  and  other  jolly  airs 
we  did,  indeed,  make  the  welkin  ring.  Once  more  we 
had  the  newspapers — we  hadn’t  seen  one  in  a month 
before — that  is,  less  than  a month  old — and  to  fair  and 
hospitable  Los  Angelos,  ever  and  truly  the  City  of  the 
Angels,  we  were  welcomed  as  ones  from  the  desert,  if 
not  from  the  dead.  We  had,  indeed,  been  reported 
several  times,  as  waylaid  and  captured  by  the  Indians  ; 
but  here  we  were  in  propriis  personis,  brown  and 
hearty,  though  dusty  and  fatigued.  Our  good  friend 
Banning  and  Don  Benito  Wilson  were  among  the  first  to 
congratulate  us  ; and  their  kindness  and  courtesy  during 
the  next  three  days,  and  until  we  left  by  steamer  for  San 
Francisco  (April  30th),  when  shall  we  forget  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  VIRGINIA  CITY. 

A SOJOURN  of  a fortnight  or  so,  at  San  Francisco, 
sufficed  for  rest  and  bringing  up  back  Reports,  and 
on  the  evening  of  May  16th,  we  took  the  good  boat, 
Chrysopolis  for  Sacramento,  and  thence  on  to  Virginia 
City.  There  were  posts  in  Nevada  I was  ordered  to 
inspect,  and  this  was  then  the  best  route  to  reach  them. 
The  weather  was  raw  at  San  Francisco,  but  when  we  got 
well  up  the  bay  and  past  Benicia,  the  air  became  mild 
and  June-like,  and  the  evening  was  passed  delightfully 
on  deck,  under  such  star-lit  skies  as  only  California  and 
the  Far  West  can  boast.  We  had  a full  complement  of 
passengers,  of  all  grades  from  New  York  cockneys  to 
Nevada  miners ; but  the  proportion  of  ladies  was  small, 
as  usually  on  the  Coast.  The  few  children  aboard 
seemed  general  pets,  and  many  eagerly  seized  a moment’s 
chat  with  them.  I saw  a rough-looking  miner,  tall,  and 
“ bearded  like  apard,”  entice  two  of  them  to  his  side,  and, 
subsequently  wander  all  over  the  boat  with  them,  talking 
with  the  little  folks  by  the  hour,  about  the  machinery 
and  whatever  else  excited  their  curiosity.  At  supper,  we 
had  a substantial  and  excellent  meal ; at  bed-time,  we 
found  the  berths  clean  and  sweet ; and  the  conduct  of 
the  boat  in  general  was  all  that  could  be  desired. 

The  Sacramento  itself  is  a noble  stream,  of  which 


426 


THE  SACRAMENTO  AND  ITS  VALLEY 


any  commonwealth  might  well  be  proud.  To  Benicia, 
and  beyond,  it  is  navigable  for  first-class  sea-going  vessels, 
and  here  upon  the  bold  shores  and  by  the  deep  waters 
thereabouts,  San  Francisco  ought  really  to  have  been 
built,  as  elsewhere  intimated.  But,  unfortunately,  the 
metropolis  got  itself  camped  down  on  the  sand-hills,  near 
the  Golden  Gate,  and  now  will  remain  there  forever. 

We  reached  Sacramento  City,  one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  from  San  Francisco,  about  2 a.  m.  next  day, 
and  after  an  early  breakfast  and  a short  walk  through  the 
town,  took  the  train  at  6J  a.  m.  for  Cisco,  then  the 
advance  station  on  the  Central  Pacific  Railroad.  This 
ride,  of  about  a hundred  miles,  was  first  up  the  rich 
valley  of  the  Sacramento,  and  then  through  the  foot-hills, 
and  up  the  Sierra  Nevadas.  At  Sacramento  the  river 
was  still  broad  and  deep,  but  with  low  banks  that  neces- 
sitated levees  to  guard  against  overflows.  Once  a clear 
mountain  stream,  fresh  from  the  Sierras,  it  was  now 
tawnier  than  the  yellow  Tiber,  with  the  results  of  mining 
on  its  head-waters  and  tributaries,  and,  it  was  reported, 
was  steadily  filling  up.  Sacramento,  indeed,  may  well 
have  an  eye  to  this ; but  what  she  can  do  to  correct  or 
prevent  it,  it  seems  difficult  to  say. 

As  we  advanced,  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento  steadily 
narrowed,  but  everywhere  appeared  rich  and  fertile. 
Broad  farms  stretched  out  on  every  side,  and  clumps  of 
live-oaks,  with  their  deep  green  foliage,  everywhere 
relieved  the  golden  yellow  of  the  ripening  wheat-fields. 
The  general  lack  of  timber  continued  noticeable,  but 
these  scattered  live-oaks,  sturdy  and  defiant,  relieved  the 
landscape,  and  they  seemed  preserved  with  commendable 
care.  As  we  approached  the  foot-hills,  the  soil  grew 
thinner,  the  lordly  wheat-fields  gave  place  to  extensive 
vineyards,  and  soon  the  dense  pines  of  the  Sierras  made 


HYDRAULIC  MINING 


427 


their  appearance.  Here,  too,  we  struck  the  mines,  and 
on  all  sides  saw  evidences  of  the  spade  and  rocker.  In 
many  places,  there  were  only  old  placers  abandoned,  with 
the  hills  ragged  and  torn,  and  the  earth  generally  topsy- 
turvy with  past  operations — cabins  empty,  ditches  dry, 
sluice-ways  falling  to  pieces  ; but,  in  others,  the  washings 
were  still  in  full  operation,  and  the  hills  and  streams 
seemed  alive  with  human  industry  and  energy.  Little 
mining  hamlets  were  perched,  here  and  there,  on  the  edge 
of  mountain  torrents  ; and,  where  the  water  did  not  suffice, 
broad  ditches,  improvised  for  the  locality,  brought  it  from 
some  far-off  point  and  carried  it  wheresoever  wanted. 

Some  of  these  water-ditches  are  among  the  wonders 
of  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  deserve  more  than  a passing 
notice.  With  surprising  engineering,  they  wind  down 
and  around  and  among  the  mountains,  leaping  ravines, 
crossing  ridges,  and  everywhere  following  the  miner, 
like  faithful  servants  of  his  will.  Wherever  necessary, 
the  miner  taps  them,  and  either  uses  the  water  in  his 
ordinary  sluice-way,  or  else  by  his  hydraulic  pipes 
hurls  it  against  the  hills,  and  literally  washes  them  to 
the  plain.  This  hydraulic  mining  seemed  to  be  most  in 
favor  there,  and  the  power  developed  by  some  of  these 
streams  was  immense.  The  momentum  acquired  by  the 
■water  in  its  long  descent,  sufficed  to  melt  huge  hills  of 
clay  and  gravel  very  quickly  ; and  instances  were  reported 
where  men,  and  mules  even,  had  been  killed  by  being 
struck  by  the  water,  as  it  issued  from  the  pipes  or  hose. 
The  men  engaged  in  mining  were  rough  and  hirsute,  as 
miners  everywhere  are  ; but  they  looked  bright  and  keen, 
and  as  if  they  believed  in  California  and  her  future,  come 
what  might. 

The  change  in  the  climate,  as  we  plunged  into  the 
foot-hills,  and  felt  our  way  up  into  the  Sierras,  was 


428 


CISCO  AND  THE  SNOWS — 


very  apparent,  and  soon  became  disagreeably  so.  At 
Sacramento,  the  weather  was  close  and  warm ; but  hour 
by  hour,  as  we  ascended,  the  thermometer  went  down, 
and  long  before  reaching  Cisco,  only  about  a hundred 
miles  or  so,  we  were  shivering  in  winter  garments.  As 
I have  said,  this  was  then  the  “jumping  off”  place  or  ter- 
minus of  the  Central  Pacific  road,  and  is  well  up  into  the 
mountains.  We  reached  there  soon  after  noon,  and  I must 
say  were  surprised  at  the  general  excellence,  as  well  as 
audacity  of  the  road.  Some  of  its  grades  are  over  a 
hundred  feet  to  the  mile,*  and  in  many  places  it  literally 
springs  into  the  air,  over  immense  trestle-work  bridges 
or  along  the  dizzy  edge  of  precipices,  that  seem  fraught 
with  peril  and  destruction ; but  we  reached  Cisco  safe 
and  sound,  and  sat  down  to  a smoking  dinner,  with  the 
snow-drifts  still  up  to  the  eaves  of  the  roofs  of  the  hotel, 
and  the  houses  round-about. 

Cisco  was  then  a scattered  village,  of  frame  tenements, 
only  a few  months  old ; but  as  the  terminus  of  the  road, 
and  depot  of  supplies  for  all  Nevada,  it  was  bustling  with 
business.  The  Overland  Mail,  for  Virginia  City  and  the 
East,  left  here  daily,  on  the  arrival  of  the  train  ; and,  after 
a hurried  dinner,  we  were  off  again  with  the  mail.  It  was 
now  May  17th,  and  though  the  advancing  summer  had 
melted  the  snow  in  the  regular  roadway,  so  that  wagoning 
was  practicable  for  some  distance,  yet  the  old  snow  still  lay 
six  and  eight  feet  deep  on  the  general  level,  and  our  road 
ran  between  solid  walls  of  it.  We  set  off  from  Cisco  in 

* Above  Dutch  Flat,  the  maximum  grade  of  116  feet  per  mile 
has  been  resorted  to,  for  over  ten  miles.  From  Owl  Gap  to  the 
Summit,  a distance  of  twenty-four  and  a half  miles,  the  average 
grade  is  81,  and  the  maximum  85  feet  per  mile.  From  the  Summit 
to  the  Truckee,  the  average  is  84,  and  the  maximum  90  feet  per 
mile  ; but  down  the  Truckee,  the  grades  average  less  than  40  feet 
per  mile. 


THE  SNOW-GALLERIES 


429 


stage-coaches  (mountain  mud-wagons),  but  soon  had  to 
surrender  these  for  sleighs ; and  then  came  a long  and 
dreary  pull,  through  slush  and  mud  and  ice,  for  several 
miles,  till  wre  got  well  across  the  summit  of  the  Sierras, 
when  we  again  took  coaches  and  rattled  down  to  Donner 
Lake,  where  we  arrived  at  8-J  p.  m.,  having  made  only 
eighteen  miles  since  noon.  The  most  of  11s  walked  a 
good  part  of  the  way,  and  found  it  altogether  rather  a 
fatiguing  march  The  depth  of  the  snow  still  left  on  the 
summit  seemed  surprising ; but  a gentleman  I met  in 
San  Francisco  assured  me,  that  when  he  crossed  the 
Sierras  in  December  previous,  he  found  the  telegraph 
poles,  even,  in  many  places  snowed  under.  The  stage- 
people  reported  the  snow  as  having  been  fifteen  and 
twenty  feet  in  depth  on  the  level  generally,  and  we  could 
see  where  they  had  set  up  poles  and  “ shakes  ” long  be- 
fore, to  mark  out  the  general  course  of  the  road  itself. 

It  was  these  huge  vast  snows  that  the  Central  Pacific 
folks  had  mainly  to  provide  against,  and  the  problem 
would  have  appalled  most  men.  But  they  quietly  set  to 
work  to  board  the  snows  out,  and  since  then  have  liter- 
ally housed  their  road  in  for  thirty  miles  or  more.  The 
surrounding  forests  furnished  them  cheap  timber,  and 
portable  saw-mills  shifted  from  point  to  point  soon  con- 
verted this  into  the  required  lumber.  But  what  a 
herculean  job  it  really  was  ! These  great  snow-sheds  or 
snow-galleries  consumed  in  all  nearly  forty-five  million 
feet,  board  measure,  of  sawed  timber,  and  over  a million 
and  a quarter  feet  of  round  timber,  equivalent  in  the 
aggregate  to  fifty-two  and  a half  million  feet,  board 
measure,  of  sawed  timber  ; and  nearly  a thousand  tons 
of  iron  and  spikes.  Two  general  styles  of  construction 
were  adopted — one  intended  for  localities  where  the 
weight  of  the  snow  only  had  to  be  supported,  and  the 


430 


THE  HEATHEN  CHINEE  AGAIN — 


other  for  such  places  as  were  exposed  to  “ slides,”  and 
the  slower  but  almost  irresistible  u glacial  movement  ” of 
the  snow,  as  on  the  steep  and  rocky  slopes  near  the  sum- 
mit. These  galleries  have  proved  a great  success,  and 
though  frequently  covered  with  drifted  snow  to  a depth 
of  ten  or  twenty  feet,  and  in  some  places  of  more  than 
fifty  feet,  they  afford  a safe  passage  for  trains  at  all 
seasons,  without  noticeable  detentions. 

Near  the  summit,  we  came  upon  John  Chinaman 
again,  in  all  his  glory.  Here  was  the  “ Heathen  Chinee,” 
five  thousand  strong,  burrowing  and  tunnelling  a way 
for  the  road,  through  the  back-bone  of  the  Sierras.  It 
was  a huge  piece  of  work,  nearly  half  a mile  long,  through 
the  solid  granite  ; but  John  was  patiently  pegging  away 
at  it,  from  four  different  faces,  and  soon  afterwards  com- 
pleted it  successfully.  They  all  wore  their  pig-tails,  the 
same  as  in  San  Francisco,  but  usually  had  these  sacred 
appendages  twisted  well  around  their  heads,  instead  of 
dangling  at  their  heels ; and,  with  the  exception  of  the 
universal  blue  blouse,  were  dressed  like  ordinary  navvies 
or  laborers.  Of  course,  they  had  American  or  English 
superintendents  and  foremen  of  gangs  ; but  these  all 
spoke  well  of  the  almond-eyed  strangers,  and  praised 
them,  especially,  for  their  docility  and  intelligence.  A 
more  industrious  or  orderly  set  of  workingmen,  were  never 
seen ; and  though  railroad-building  was  a new  employ- 
ment for  Asiatics,  they  seemed  to  take  to  it  very  kindly. 
Subsequently,  they  pushed  the  Central  down  the  moun- 
tains, and  through  to  Ogden  City ; and  the  day  is  not 
distant,  when  they  will  push  such  roads,  with  their 
thousand  civilizing  influences,  all  through  the  Flowery 
Kingdom. 

We  crossed  the  summit  just  at  sunset,  and  from  that 
proud  altitude — seven  thousand  two  hundred  feet  above 


DONNER  LAKE 


431 


the  sea — gazed  down  upon  that  gem  of  the  Sierras,  Don- 
ner  Lake — a body  of  crystalline  water,  live  miles  long  by 
over  half  a mile  wide,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  mountains. 
The  crest  of  the  Sierras  lifts  itself  boldly  along  the  west, 
but  elsewhere  the  ridges  slope  down  to  the  Lake,  and  the 
hoary  peaks  and  cliffs  seem  to  hold  it  in  their  lap,  like  a 
sleeping  infant.  The  sunset  itself,  that  evening,  was 
superb.  The  clouds  became  gold,  the  snow  burnished  sil- 
ver, while  a purple  haze  sifted  down  from  the  sky,  and 
soon  veiled  exquisitely  the  lake  and  its  far-stretching 
canons.  As  the  night  gathered  deeper,  the  lights  and 
shadows  became  grandly  sublime  ; and  then,  as  a fitting 
sequel,  came  one  of  those  glorious  skies,  ablaze  with  stars, 
for  which  the  Coast  is  so  famed.  It  was  blackest  marble, 
gemmed  with  silver.  It  seemed  to  uplift  itself  into 
eternity.  The  whole  scene  fixed  itself  indelibly  in  the 
memory,  and  though  we  saw  Lake  Tahoe  afterwards  I 
preferred  this  view  of  Donner  Lake. 

In  the  midst  of  the  falling  shadows,  we  passed  the 
snow-limit,  and  again  betook  ourselves  to  mountain  mud- 
wagons,  which  farther  down  we  again  exchanged  for 
Concord  coaches.  About  9 p.  m.  we  halted  for  supper, 
but  were  soon  on  the  road  again,  and  striking  the 
Truckee,  followed  it  down  until  long  after  sunrise. 
Once  out  of  the  mountains,  its  valley  rapidly  broadened  ; 
but  here  was  the  rainless  region,  and  sage-brush  again 
prevailed,  as  in  Idaho  and  Arizona.  Here  and  there,  we 
passed  some  fair  farms ; but  irrigation  was  the  secret, 
and  without  this,  agriculture  in  Nevada,  as  elsewhere 
in  the  great  basin  of  the  continent,  will  seldom  amount 
to  much.  The  air  continued  raw  and  chilly,  well 
into  the  morning ; but  the  roads  had  become  dusty 
and  superb,  and  we  bowled  along  down  the  mountains, 
and  up  the  wonderful  Geiger  grade,  at  a swinging  pace, 


432 


VIRGINIA  CITY 


that  brought  us  into  Virginia  City — seventy  miles  or 
more  from  Cisco — at  about  10  a.  m.  Here  we  stopped  at 
the  International,  then  the  “ swell  ” house  of  Virginia 
City,  and  found  excellent  cheer,  for  the  hungry  and  the 
weary. 

The  next  day  wTas  Sunday,  and  though  many  of  the 
business  houses  continued  open,  yet  the  mines  and  mills 
as  a rule  were  silent,  and  the  proportion  of  church-goers 
was  larger  than  wre  expected.  Virginia  already  boasted 
several  creditable  churches,  and  in  one  of  these  a noted 
revivalist  from  the  East  (Kev.  Mr.  E.)  was  attracting 
crowds  by  his  zeal  and  earnestness.  His  discourse  that 
day  was  bald  to  plainness,  but  direct  and  searching ; and 
vrhen,  at  its  close,  he  invited  penitents  to  rise,  a score  or 
more  stood  up — many  of  them  rough  and  burly  men, 
bathed  in  tears.  lie  had  crossed  our  path  in  Oregon  in 
December,  and  subsequently  we  had  heard  of  him  again 
in  San  Francisco,  where  the  press  were  divided  as  to  his 
merits.  But  here  in  Nevada,  he  was  regarded  as  a great 
evangelist,  and  one  enthusiastic  journalist  asserted  that 
he  had  added  more  to  the  church,  during  his  brief  tour 
on  the  Coast,  than  all  their  parsons  before  all  put  together. 
Some  days  after,  when  about  to  depart  for  other  fields, 
he  was  presented  with  a silver  “brick”  or  two,  as  appro- 
priate evidence  of  Nevada  appreciation. 

As  a mining  town,  Virginia  City  impresses  one  very 
favorably,  and  her  growth  seemed  steady  and  real.  She 
already  possessed  many  excellent  buildings,  and  others 
were  fast  going  up.  She  sits  high  and  dry,  on  the  side 
of  a silver  mountain,  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea, 
with  a population  of  some  eight  or  ten  thousand  souls, 
wTith  other  mountains  shouldering  a wav  beneath  and 
above  her;  and,  of  course,  would  never  have  been  at  all, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  lucky  discovery  of  the  Comstock 


THE  COMSTOCK  LODE 


433 


Lode.  This  is  the  great  lode  of  Nevada,  from  which  the 
bulk  of  her  silver  has  been  taken,  and  few  of  her  min- 
ing operations  elsewhere  were  then  paying  for  themselves. 
White  Fine  had  not  then  been  discovered  (May,  ’67),  and 
the  great  enterprises  of  Nevada,  such  as  Gould  & Curry, 
Yellow  Jacket,  Ophir,  Savage,  Crown  Point,  etc.,  were  all 
located  on  the  Comstock  Lode.  This  ran  along  the  moun- 
tain-side, beneath  the  town,  for  two  or  three  miles,  varying 
in  width  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet,  and  of  unknown 
depth.  The  Gould  & Curry  Company  had  sunk  a shaft 
nearly  a thousand  feet,  and  the  argentiferous  deposits 
still  appeared,  more  or  less  richly.  Less  than  a third  of 
the  companies  then  at  work  on  this  great  lode,  however 
(some  thirty  in  all),  were  then  paying  dividends,  and  the 
general  product  of  the  State,  it  was  conceded,  was  falling 
off.  One  company  had  spent  over  a million  dollars,  in 
“ developing  ” its  property,  without  striking  “ pay-ore,” 
and  others  were  following  in  its  footsteps.  But  others, 
again,  had  paid  very  handsomely.  The  Gould  & Curry, 
on  an  investment  of  less  than  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  from  its  stockholders,  had  paid  them  back  four 
millions  in  dividends,  and  altogether  had  produced  over 
twelve  millions  in  bullion.  In  one  year,  it  had  yielded 
nearly  five  millions,  with  a clear  profit  of  over  one 
million ; but  in  1867,  it  was  not  promising  so  well.  It 
had  spent  vast  sums  in  mining  and  improvements,  with 
something  here  and  there  that  looked  like  extravagance, 
if  not  worse.  Its  magnificent  mill,  of  eighty-stamp 
power,  cost  over  a million  of  dollars,  and  was  said  to  be 
the  largest  and  finest  quartz-mill  in  the  world.  This 
company  owned  twelve  hundred  feet  of  the  Comstock 
Lode,  and  had  dug  down  nearly  a thousand  feet  in  depth, 
and  back  and  forth  fifty  times.  Its  shafts  and  tunnels 
measured  over  two  miles  under  ground,  and  it  had  used 
i9 


43  4 


THE  SUTRO  TUNNEL 


more  lumber  in  strengthing  its  walls,  it  was  said,  than 
was  embraced  in  the  whole  of  Virginia  City  overhead. 
We  spent  an  afternoon  wandering  through  its  drifts  and 
galleries,  part  of  the  time  nine  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
beneath  the  surface,  and  were  amazed  at  the  work  that 
had  been  done. 

Another,  the  Yellow  Jacket,  had  yielded  over  two 
millions  of  dollars,  and  paid  its  stock-holders  nearly 
four  hundred  thousand  dollars,  or  fifty  thousand  more 
than  all  their  subscriptions  and  assessments.  The 
Savage  had  taken  out  six  millions  of  bullion,  and  the 
Ophir  over  twelve  millions;  but,  as  yet,  the  stock- 
holders had  realized  but  little,  because  of  bad  manage- 
ment and  expensive  experiments,  that  proved  failures. 
This  Comstock  ore  averaged  less  than  forty  dollars  per 
ton,  more  usually  only  twenty-five  to  thirty  ; blit  it  was 
less  refractory  than  most  American  ores,  and  required 
only  to  be  crushed  and  amalgamated  to  extract  the  bullion. 
Better  u processes  ” were  continually  being  looked  for,  as 
in  Colorado,  with  which  it  was  hoped  much  poorer  ores 
would  pay  well.  Selected  ores,  such  as  averaged  a thou- 
sand dollars  per  ton  or  so,  were  still  shipped  to  Swansea, 
Wales,  for  treatment,  though  this  seemed  absurd,  con- 
sidering the  distance  and  expense,  and  our  vast  deposits 
of  coal  at  home.  The  famous  Sutro  Tunnel,  in  behalf 
of  which  Congress  has  since  been  so  earnestly  memorial- 
ized, is  a magnificent  scheme  to  tap  this  great  lode  at 
lower  levels,  where  it  may  be  drained  and  worked  at 
much  better  advantage ; and,  if  ever  realized,  will  no 
doubt  result  in  the  Comstock  turning  out  fabulous  sums 
again.* 

The  most  of  the  mining  capital  seemed  to  be  fur- 
nished by  California,  and  the  best-informed  people 
* See  Appendix. 


MINING  GENERALLY. 


435 


thought,  notwithstanding  the  large  yield  of  many  mines, 
that  she  had  not  yet  received  back  the  amount  of  money 
she  had  actually  invested.  A fair  estimate  was,  that  she 
had  put  fully  a hundred  millions  into  Nevada  mines  and 
mills,  and  had  taken  out  only  about  sixty  millions,  leav- 
ing a balance  of  forty  millions  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
ledger  yet ; but  then  there  were  the  shafts  and  tunnels, 
the  mills  and  machinery,  with  large  added  experience, 
and  ’Frisco  capitalists  were  still  hopeful  of  the  future. 

The  fluctuations  of  mining  stocks  were  great  and  fre- 
quent, and  we  watched  them  with  interest  while  on  the 
Coast.  A lucky  “ strike,”  probably  in  some  rich  “ pocket,” 
would  send  Savage  or  Yellow  Jacket  high  up*on  the  list 
for  a few  days  or  weeks,  when  the  vein  would  “ peter 
out,”  and  again  it  would  drop  to  its  former  figures  or 
below.  Our  conclusion  was,  that  silver-mining,  after  all, 
is  a very  risky  business.  There  may  be  money  in  it,  for 
superintendents  and  directors;  but  for  stockholders,  as  a 
rule,  very  little.  The  Mexicans  have  an  adage,  and  they 
are  old  and  experienced  miners,  that  “ it  takes  a mine 
to  work  a mine ; ” and  that  seemed  to  be  about  the 
opinion  of  the  best  minds  we  met  wTith.  Miners  and 
mining-life,  are  much  the  same  everywhere  ; and  if  the 
reader  wants  to  know  more  about  them,  let  him  turn  to 
Chapter  V.,  p.  58. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


VIRGINIA.  CITY  TO  STOCKTON. 

AFTER  concluding  my  duties  at  Fort  Churchill, 
some  thirty  miles  east  on  the  road  to  Austin,  we 
returned  again  to  Virginia  City,  and  on  the  morning  of 
May  22d  took  the  coach  for  California  again.  As  we 
had  come  over  by  Cisco  and  Donner  Lake,  wre  decided 
to  return  by  Lake  Tahoe  and  Placerville,  and  thus  see  as 
much  of  the  country  both  ways  as  possible.  Our  route 
lay  first  through  Carson  City  and  Genoa,  and  thence 
across  the  Sierras  by  Lake  Tahoe  to  Placerville.  The 
sun  shone  clear,  but  cool,  as  we  swung  out  of  the  Silver 
City,  amidst  rolling  clouds  of  dust ; but  when  we 
reached  the  grease-wood  and  sage  plains,  it  speedily  grew 
warmer.  AVe  found  Carson  a diminutive  “ city,”  noted 
chiefly  for  its  penitentiary,  and  pushed  rapidly  ahead 
all  day.  We  threaded  the  valley  of  the  Carson,  and 
striking  the  Sierras  skirted  their  base  for  miles ; but 
finally  turned  square  west,  and  zigzagged  over  the  first 
range,  by  a splendid  turnpike,  that  is  unsurpassed  any- 
where. The  range  was  so  abrupt,  and*  the  road  so  sharp, 
that  the  summit  seemed  higher  than  it  really  was  ; but 
when  we  reached  there,  we  were  repaid  by  a magnificent 
view  of  the  valley  of  the  Carson,  and  the  far-stretch- 
ing sage  and  alkali  plains  of  Nevada.  So  far,  we  had 
encountered  no  snow ; but  when  we  approached  the 
second  range,  or  Mother  Ridge  of  the  Sierras,  we  found 


ROUGH  STAGE-COACHING — 


437 


it  snow-crowned  still,  and  prepared  ourselves  for  the 
worst. 

At  Yank’s  Station,  where  we  changed  horses  just  at 
nightfall,  they  reported  the  road  ahead  as  not  good  enough 
for  sleighs,  and  too  bad  for  coaches ; but  concluded, 
on  the  whole,  we  had  better  risk  a coach.  So,  after  a 
hearty  supper,  we  set  off  in  a Concord  coach,  being  the 
ffrst  one  over  the  Placerville  route  that  spring.  We  had 
a full  load — nine  passengers  inside  and  four  outside,  in- 
cluding two  ladies  and  three  children  ; but  our  six  horses 
were  fresh  and  gamey,  and  for  a time  we  swung  along 
at  a spanking  pace.  Halfway  up  the  range,  however, 
we  struck  the  ice  and  slush,  and  soon  came  to  a dead 
halt,  with  a request  from  the  driver  for  all  to  get  out  and 
walk,  except  the  ladies  and  children.  With  only  these 
on  board,  the  coach  forged  ahead  for  a mile  or  so  more, 
when  again  it  halted,  and  these,  too,  were  ordered  out. 
Two  of  the  children  were  small,  only  four  or  five  years 
of  age,  and  these  the  rest  of  the  passengers  chivalrously 
agreed  to  shoulder  and  carry  by  turns.  The  road  was 
itself  quite  steep ; its  bed,  mingled  ice  and  slush  ; while 
on  either  side  were  still  four  or  five  feet  of  snow, 
as  on  the  Donner  Lake  route.  It  ascended  the  range 
by  long  zigzags,  and  some  who  attempted  a “ short  cut  ” 
across  these,  trusting  the  snow,  soon  found  themselves 
up  to  their  waists  or  shoulders  in  it.  It  was  slow  and 
painful  travelling  at  best,  especially  with  a child  on  your 
back  ; but  the  coach  progressed  still  slower,  and  often 
we  heard  it  floundering  along  far  below  us,  or  wholly 
stalled  in  some  villainous  chuck-hole,  'worse  than  the  rest. 

Reaching  the  summit  at  last,  near  midnight,  by  such 
long  and  toilsome  climbing,  we  there  found  a rough 
station,  where  we  dried  our  feet  and  clothes,  and  got 
fresh  horses,  after  which  we  pushed  on  again — now, 


438 


GERTRUDE  JANE 


however,  sticking  by  the  coach,  and  helping  to  lift  it 
out,  and  urge  it  along  from  time  to  time  as  needed. 
Sometimes,  it  seemed  hopelessly  stalled,  especially  when 
it  got  wedged  in,  besides,  against  one  of  the  snow-walls ; 
but  by  lifting  and  prying,  and  much  faithful  shouting, 
we  always  managed  somehow  to  pull  out,  and  at  last 
struck  terra  firma  again  along  toward  morning.  But  we 
were  six  mortal  hours,  in  making  less  than  ten  miles, 
across  this  range  ; and  what  with  trudging  through  the 
slush,  helping  the  ladies  forward,  and  carrying  the  child- 
ren, it  was  altogether  one  of  the  worst  night-journeys  I 
ever  experienced.  If  anybody  thinks  differently,  let 
him  try  his  hand  at  carrying  fifty  pounds  of  childhood, 
up  a slushy  road,  six  miles  more  or  less  across  a moun- 
tain, through  the  chilly  night  air,  about  midnight  and  after. 
When  happily  we  regained  the  coach,  after  passing  the 
snow,  we  supposed  our  troubles  about  over;  but  an 
ambitious  mother  from  Virginia  City,  en  route  to  San 
Francisco,  left  her  Gertrude  Jane  unselfishly  to  me, 
while  she  herself  sank  gracefully  into  a corner  of  the 
coach,  and  wTent  deliberately  to  sleep.  It  was,  perhaps, 
characteristic  of  her  sex  on  the  Coast,  where  women  are 
so  few,  they  are  over-appreciated ; but  to  the  Eastern 
mind,  I confess,  it  seemed  somewhat  too  much  of  a good 
thing,  considering  the  premises. 

Once  out  of  the  snow,  we  struck  comparatively  good 
roads  again,  and  whirled  along  down  and  out  of  the 
mountains  at  a magnificent  rate.  Our  general  pace  was 
a good  square  trot,  but  we  swung  around  the  zigzags 
usually  at  a sharp  gallop,  and  often  shaved  the  edge  of 
cliffs  so  closely,  that  it  made  the  goose-flesh  come  and  go, 
or  one’s  hair  about  stand  on  end.  With  the  first  break 
of  day,  I sought  the  outside  of  the  coach,  and  revelled 
in  the  ride  through  the  breezy  pines  of  the  Sierras — 


LAKE  TAHOE 


439 


monster  conifer®,  ten  and  twelve  feet  through,  and  run- 
ning up  straight  as  an  arrow  by  the  hundred  feet — and 
so  down  the  range  to  Lake  Tahoe.  This  (Tahoe)  is  the 
gem  of  the  Sierras,  par  excellence , according  to  all  good 
Californians ; and  one  scarcely  wonders  at  their  immense 
pride  in  it.  Itself  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea, 
skirted  with  primeval  forests,  rimmed  about  with  snow- 
clad  peaks,  it  stretches  wide  for  ten  or  twelve  miles,  and 
its  waters  are  so  pure  and  clear,  that  trout  may  be  seen  at 
all  depths  in  it.  It  had  already  become  a popular  resort 
for  all  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  waited  only  for  the  com- 
pletion of  the  railroad,  to  welcome  visitors  from  the 
East.  Here  was  the  limpid  heart  of  the  Sierras ; and  the 
wild,  the  picturesque,  and  the  sublime,  all  combined  to 
enhance  its  conceded  beauty.  California  herself,  ever 
alive  to  her  own  interests,  was  also  entertaining  some  very 
utilitarian  views  with  regard  to  it.  A long-headed, 
broad-minded  German  engineer  proposed  to  tap  it,  by 
tunnelling  through  the  Sierras,  and  conducting  its  crystal 
waters  across  the  State — first  utilizing  them  as  water- 
power and  a grand  irrigating  canal  en  route  as  wanted, 
and  at  the  terminus  supplying  San  Francisco  with  un- 
impeachable water.  It  was  a gigantic  project,  involving 
many  millions  ; but  was  already  much  talked  of,  and  was 
just  the  kind  of  scheme  to  interest  the  minds,  and  lighten 
the  pockets,  of  good  Californians. 

Past  Lake  Tahoe,  we  whirled  over  and  down  the 
mountains  at  a telling  pace — by  the  side  of  rushing 
torrents,  amidst  aromatic  pines,  along  the  dizzy  edge  of 
precipices — it  was  the  very  romance  of  stage-coaching — 
and  drew  up  at  Shingle  Station,  on  the  Placerville  and 
Sacramento  Railroad,  at  11  a.  m.,  having  come  116  miles 
since  leaving  Virginia  City,  only  the  day  before,  despite 
the  snow  on  the  summit.  At  Placerville,  wTe  struck  the 


i 


440 


PLACERVILLE SACRAMENTO 


original  gold-fields  of  California,  and  saw  abundant 
evidences  of  past  washings  on  all  sides  of  us.  These 
were  now  mostly  abandoned,  except  by  the  Chinese, 
who  here  and  there  were  still  patiently  at  work,  content 
to  glean  what  Americans  despised.  Placerville  itself,  in 
the  then  eajdy  spring,  was  one  mass  of  perfect  roses  and 
foliage.  The  balmy  breath  of  summer  seemed  every- 
where at  work,  and  the  climate  reminded  one  rather  of 
Charleston  or  Savannah  in  May  or  June.  Her  ragged 
hillsides,  abandoned  by  the  miner,  were  everywhere 
changing  into  vineyards  and  orchards,  while  skillful 
irrigation  was  rapidly  converting  her  waste  lands  into 
productive  farms.  Once  out  of  the  foot-hills,  we  again 
struck  the  lordly  wheat-fields,  and  thence  on  to  Sacra- 
mento we  were  never  out  of  sight  of  broad  acres  of 
waving  grain. 

At  Sacramento,  we  found  hearty  welcome,  and  good 
hotels,  and  tarried  there  for  a day  or  so.  It  was  then  a 
city  of  fifteen  or  twenty  thousand  people,  and  though  not 
prospering  as  in  former  years,  as  capital  of  the  State  and 
the  centre  of  a magnificent  farming  district,  was  yet  cer- 
tain of  its  future.  Here,  as  at  Placerville,  the  wealth 
of  roses  was  something  surprising,  and  indeed  the  whole 
city  seemed  to  be  a wilderness  of  color  and  perfume.  It 
is  difficult  for  one  residing  on  the  Atlantic  slope,  to  real- 
ize how  richly  California  is  endowed  with  flowers.  To 
us,  here,  they  were  a constant  wonder  and  delight, 
though  this  may  have  partly  come  from  our  sudden 
transition  from  the  snows  of  the  Sierras. 

From  Sacramento,  we  rode  over  to  Stockton,  some 
fifty  miles,  leaving  at  6 a.  m.  and  reaching  there  at  1 p. 
m.  As  there  were  but  few  passengers,  we  had  the  coach 
pretty  much  to  ourselves,  and  the  ride  proved  delightful, 
barring  the  dust.  Our  route  lay  mainly  down  the  valley 


THE  WIIEAT-FIELDS — 


441 


of  the  Sacramento  proper,  and  we  found  the  country  a 
dead  level  or  gently  rolling,  not  unlike  an  Illinois  prairie, 
though  diversified  here  and  there  with  groups  of  live- 
oaks,  festooned  with  Spanish  moss.  Now  and  then  these 
oaks  thickened  into  respectable  groves,  but  nowhere  did 
they  seem  to  amount  to  much  as  timber.  The  soil  was 
everywhere  black  and  deep,  all  a farmer’s  heart  could 
wish,  and  there  appeared  to  be  literally  no  end  to  the 
wide-stretching  wheat-fields.  They  skirted  the  road  for 
miles,  on  every  side,  and  our  driver  was  continually 
pointing  out  to  us  this  hundred  or  that  thousand  acre 
wheat-field.  Wheat  seemed  too  much  their  main  crop, 
though  vineyards  and  fruit-orchards  were  not  infrequent, 
and  on  the  “ divides  ” we  here  and  there  saw  some  large 
flocks  of  sheep  and  herds  of  cattle,  quietly  feeding  under 
their  native  rancheros.  Evidently  their  breadth  of  wheat- 
land  was  constantly  extending.  When  California  first 
began  to  grow  wheat,  for  several  years  it  was  thought 
the  bottom-lands  were  the  only  ones  worth  cultivating. 
But  it  was  found  that  good  crops  could  also  be  grown 
on  her  uplands,  and  year  by  year  more  of  these  were 
now  being  reclaimed  and  sown.  Unlike  other  crops,  her 
wheat  nowhere  requires  irrigation  ; but,  sown  late  in  the 
fall  or  early  winter,  it  germinates  beneath  the  December 
rains,  grows  rapidly  all  winter,  and  by  May  is  ready  to 
harvest.  Her  long  and  rainless  summer  affords  ample 
leisure  to  gather  and  market  it — no  granaries  or  barns 
being  required  ; and  the  reported  yield — 50  to  80  bushels 
to  the  acre — seems  fabulous  to  any  one,  but  a Californian. 

Her  fruit  and  vegetable  fields  require  regular  irriga- 
tion, the  same  as  in  Colorado  and  Utah  ; and  wherever 
these  appeared,  long-armed  windmills  wearily  beat  the 
air,  pumping  water  to  the  surface.  The  steady  sea- 
breeze  of  the  long  summer  renders  these  very  reliable, 


442 


STOCKTON. 


and  California  everywhere  had  been  quick  to  adopt  them. 
All  about  Stockton,  they  stood  gaunt  and  skeleton-like 
against  the  sky,  like  a cordon  of  ghostly  sentinels ; but 
they  seemed  to  serve  their  purpose  admirably  well,  and 
this  was  the  main  thing.  The  water  they  lifted  to  the 
surface  was  conducted  by  troughs  and  ditches  hundreds 
of  yards  away,  as  needed,  everywhere  converting  the 
parched  and  arid  earth  into  bountiful  fields  and  gardens. 
Stockton  seemed  literally  embosomed  in  these,  foliage 
and  flowers  abounding  on  all  sides,  and  her  climate 
appeared  perfect  even  for  California.  At  the  head  of 
steamboat  navigation  on  the  San  Joaquin,  she  gathered 
into  her  lap  the  trade  and  travel  of  a wide  district  there, 
and  was  already  a busy  and  thriving  town  of  several 
thousand  inhabitants.  Of  course,  she  has  no  great  and 
magnificent  future,  like  San  Francisco  ; but  as  an  impor- 
tant inland  city,  doubtless  she  will  continue  to  grow  and 
prosper  for  many  years  to  come. 


YOSEMITE  VALLEY  (from  foot  of  Mariposa  Trail). 


- 


- 





CHAPTER  XXIX. 


STOCKTON  TO  THE  YOSEMITE, 


ERE  at  Stockton,  I had  expected  to  find  friends 


from  San  Francisco,  to  go  through  to  the  Yosemite 
with  me,  and  return.  ( Yo-Sem-i-te , big-grizzly  bear.) 
But,  instead,  I found  letters,  begging  off,  on  the  plea, 
that  it  was  yet  too  early  in.  the  season  to  venture  there. 
It  was,  indeed,  rather  later  than  usual ; but  the  previous 
winter  had  been  a severe  one,  and  in  San  Francisco,  they 
said,  the  snow  was  still  too  deep  on  the  mountains,  to 
reach  the  far-famed  valley.  This  was  all  very  well  for 
them,  being  residents  on  the  Coast.  But  my  official  duties 
there  were  now  substantially  over ; there  was  only  about 
a fortnight  or  so  left,  before  the  steamer  sailed  on  which 
I had  engaged  passage ; and  the  question  with  me  was, 
whether  now,  or  perhaps  never,  to  see  California’s  (if 
not  the  world’s)  chiefest  wonder.  I inquired  ^t  the 
Stockton  hotels,  but  could  find  no  one  en  route  to  the 
Yosemite  ; and  finally  concluded  I must  go  alone,  or  not 
at  all.*  At  last,  however,  I heard  of  two  Englishmen 
who  had  just  returned,  declaring  the  route  practicable 
via  Coulterville ; but  alleging  they  were  the  only  ones, 
who  had  been  in  and  out  that  season.  This  decided  me, 

* Perhaps  I should  add,  my  friend  Dr.  M.  had  already  returned 
East,  via  Hong  Kong  and  Calcutta,  around  the  world  ; and  L.  was  in 
San  Francisco,  suffering  from  the  ague. 


444 


OFF  FOR  THE  YOSEMITE 


especially  as  I preferred  to  be  on  the  move,  rather  than 
idling  in  San  Francisco  until  my  steamer  sailed. 

Accordingly,  I took  the  stage  early  next  morning 
(May  25th)  for  Coulterville,  and  reached  there  the  same 
evening.  My  design  was  to  go  in  by  the  Coulterville 
route,  and  come  out  bv  the  Mariposa,  so  as  to  visit  the 
Mariposa  Grove  of  Big  Trees  also,  if  possible ; but,  fail- 
ing that,  to  return  by  Coulterville.  The  first  twenty-five 
miles  of  the  road  from  Stockton  was  through  a sea  of 
lordly  wheat-fields,  like  the  ride  from  Sacramento  ; but, 
after  that  we  struck  the  more  barren  foot-hills,  and 
settlements  soon  became  fewer  and  poorer.  Our  general 
course  was  up  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin  and  its 
tributaries — the  Stanislaus  and  the  Tuolomne — with  the 
country  gradually  rising,  and-  the  Coast  Range  looming 
always  grandly  against  the  west.  The  latter  half  of  the 
way  was  dreary  and  desolate,  the  arid  hills  and  plains 
stretching  on  all  sides  around  ; and  we  hailed  with  joy 
the  lovely  view  of  the  Merced  Valley,  that  betokened 
our  approach  to  Coulterville.  We  had  several  passengers 
thus  far,  evidently  men  intent  on  mines  or  other  local 
business,  and  Coulterville  gave  us  a kindly  evening 
welcome. 

The  next  morning  a guide  was  found,  who  guaran- 
teed .to  take  me  into  the  valley  and  back,  if  I could 
stand  a little  rough  riding  and  walking;  and  after  an 
early  dinner  we  set  cheerily  out.  He  could  not  promise 
to  bring  me  out  by  the  Mariposa  trail,  but  he  would 
do  the  best  he  could , and  in  this  I had  faith.  The  dis- 
tance to  the  Yosemite  was  still  some  fifty-five  miles,  too 
much  for  one  day’s  journey,  and  we  decided  to  go  no  far- 
ther than  Black’s,  some  eighteen  miles  on,  the  first  day. 
The  wagon-road  terminated  practically  at  Coulterville, 
and  from  here  we  proceeded  on  horseback,  over  a wan- 


BOWER  CAVE BLACK  S 


445 


dering  mountain  trail,  that  seemed  specially  designed  to 
bring  out  all  the  finest  views  in  the  country.  My  horse 
was  a mustang  pony,  named  Punty,  small  but  sure  of 
foot,  and  as  brave  and  faithful  a little  creature  as  ever 
lived.  The  day  was  glorious.  The  sky  was  without  a 
cloud.  The  atmosphere  seemed,  indeed,  like  “ wine  of 
airy  gold/’  The  pines  of  the  foot-hills  and  mountains 
perfumed  every  breeze,  and  every  sense  seemed  satisfied 
and  full.  As  we  had  ample  time,  we  allowed  our  horses 
to  take  their  “ own  sweet  will,”  and  whiled  the  afternoon 
away  in  chat  and  song.  My  guide,  Capt.  Coulter,  was  a 
companionable  young  fellow,  who  had  seen  something 
of  army  life  among  the  California  Volunteers,  and  we 
got  on  together  very  well. 

At  Bower  Cave,  halfway  or  so  along,  we  halted  to 
give  the  horses  a brief  rest,  and  meanwhile  explored 
the  little  bijou  of  a cave  there,  which  is  quite  perfect 
in  its  way.  It  is  a natural  cave,  several  hundred  feet  in 
extent,  in  a limestone  bluff  there,  with  a pool  of  water 
in  one  corner,  forty  feet  deep,  and  clear  as  crystal.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  cave  are  several  petrified  trees,  while 
from  its  mouth  uprises  a group  of  stately  maples,  that 
spread  their  umbrageous  branches  like  a canopy  over  all. 
At  a little  distance,  they  quite  conceal  the  entrance  to 
the  cave ; but  down  in  the  cave,  looking  up,  the  light 
breaks  through  their  multitudinous  leaves,  and  illuminates 
the  cave  and  pool  to  the  very  bottom.  Thence,  we  pro- 
ceeded on  to  Black’s,  in  a sheltered  nook,  well  among 
the  mountains,  where  we  found  plain  but  excellent 
entertainment,  and  went  early  to  bed,  with  the  roses 
crowding  about  our  windows,  and  the  irrigating  streams 
that  gave  life  to  them  murmuring  in  our  ears.  Here,  as 
elsewhere  in  California,  irrigation  was  still  essential ; but 
Mr.  Black  had  caught  and  tamed  a mountain  rivulet — led 


446 


A FINE  HORSEBACK  RIDE 


it  indeed  everywhere — and  wherever  it  went,  it  worked 
winders,  in  that  virgin  soil  and  matchless  climate. 

The  next  morning,  we  were  up  bright  and  early, 
though  withal  a little  stiff  and  sore,  and  at  6 a.  m.  were 
off  for  the  Yosemite  again.  Like  the  day  before,  only 
hourly  more  and  more  so,  the  trail  still  wound  up,  and 
along,  and  over  the  ridges  and  mountains — now  through 
deep  forests  of  primeval  pines,  that  would  be  monsters 
anywhere  else,  where  our  horses  sank  to  their  fetlocks  in 
mosses  of  emerald  green,  and  now  along  some  rocky 
bluff’,  naked  and  barren,  whence  we  could  gaze  for  miles 
on  miles  across  ravine  and  ridge,  wooded  mountain  and 
arid  plain,  to  the  purple  Coast  Range  beyond.  Often  I 
reined  Punty  in,  and  gazed  with  delighted  eyes  over  such 
glorious  scenes  and  far-away  landscapes,  as  we  are  never 
permitted  to  see  East.  There  was  a purity  and  clearness 
about  the  air,  that  lent  long  range  to  the  vision  ; and 
besides,  our  elevation  above  the  sea  had  now  become  so 
great,  that  the  foot-hills  seemed  merged  into  the  plains. 
At  times,  there  came  a feeling  of  loneliness — only  two  of 
us  thus  together,  adrift  among  the  Sierras  ; but  the  ever- 
changing  landscape  soon  banished  this  again,  and  through- 
out the  day  every  sense  seemed  filled  to  the  utmost. 
This  magnificent  horseback  ride,  through  the  foot-hills 
and  up  the  Sierras,  over  and  along  their  flanks  and  sum- 
mits, alone  repaid  me  for  all  the  toil  and  fatigue  of  the 
trip  ; and  then,  there  was  the  Yosemite,  and  other  experi- 
ences besides. 

When  we  got  within  five  or  six  miles  of  the  Yose- 
mite, however,  we  struck  the  snow,  and  the  remainder  of 
our  ride  became  chiefly  a plunge  and  flounder.  The 
snow  still  lay  several  feet  in  depth,  over  most  of  this  dis- 
tance, completely  hiding  the  trail  in  many  places,  so  that 
my  guide  frequently  became  lost.  A pocket-compass, 


FIRST  VIEW  OF  THE  YOSEMITE 


447 


and  his  own  keen  eye  for  topography,  however,  usually 
soon  put  us  right  again,  and  so  we  floundered  on — deter- 
mined to  get  through,  if  possible.  In  places,  the  snow  had 
a stout  crust,  which  bore  both  us  and  the  horses  up,  and 
here  we  would  mount  and  ride  along  quite  gayly.  But, 
in  an  unguarded  moment,  when  we  were  thinking  the 
worst  was  over,  or  that  we  were  almost  out  of  the  snow- 
limit,  suddenly  our  mustangs  would  go  in  to  their  saddle- 
girths  ; and  then,  there  was  nothing  left  for  us  but  to  dis- 
mount (if  we  were  not  already  sprawling  in  the  snow),  and 
coax  them  forward  the  best  we  could.  This  kind  of  travel- 
ling told  quickly  upon  our  animals,  and  severely ; how- 
ever, we  got  along  better  than  we  expected,  and  late  in  the 
afternoon,  emerging  from  the  snow  and  pines,  we  rounded 
a rocky  bluff,  and  before  us  in  a moment — yawned  the 
Yosemite.  At  our  feet  lay  the  wonderful  valley — how 
sublime  and  glorious ! Before  us  swrayed  the  Bridal  Veil, 
in  all  its  grace  and  beauty.  To  the  left  was  El  Capitan, 
looming  up  in  solemn  grandeur.  Beyond  stood  Sentinel 
Peak,  piercing  the  clouds ; and  still  beyond,  the  great 
South  Dome,  propping  the  very  sky.  We  reined  our 
horses  in  for  a while,  feasting  our  e}res  on  the  general 
view ; but  soon  hastened  on  again,  as  the  day  was  waning, 
and  the  descent  into  the  valley  yet  to  be  accomplished. 

Soon  we  struck  a brace  of  foaming  torrents,  that  shot 
across  our  pathway  like  feathery  arrows,  and  sped  to  join 
the  lovely  Merced  in  the  far  valley  below.  Ordinarily, 
these  were  but  mountain  rivulets;  but  now  they  were 
fierce  and  swollen,  because  of  the  melting  snows,  and  as 
they  were  unbridged,  the  only  way  was  to  ford  them. 
We  tried  the  usual  ford,  but  found  it  so  deep  and  swift, 
and  rocky  withal,  that  we  were  afraid  to  venture  it. 
Finally,  Capt.  Coulter  suggested,  that  if  I would  cross  by 
some  fallen  trees  farther  up,  that  nearly  met  and  made  a 


448 


A PLUCKY  PONY 


sort  of  foot-bridge  there,  he  thought  he  could  make  Punty 
swim  the  streams,  swollen  and  rocky  as  they  were,  when 
the  other  horse  would  be  likely  to  follow  suit.  So,  taking 
off  his  saddle  and  bridle,  and  shouldering  these  and  my 
roll  of  blankets,  I cautiously  made  my  way  over  the 
tangled  trees,  and  presently  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
other  side  in  safety.  From  here,  I called  to  Punty  to 
come  over,  while  Capt.  C.  urged  him  in.  At  first,  he 
whinnied,  as  if  he  knew  what  was  wanted  of  him  ; then 
ventured  into  the  icy  water,  and  shrank  out  again,  as  if 
uncertain  of  himself.  But,  finally,  with  more  coaxing 
and  urging,  the  plucky  little  fellow  plunged  courageously 
in,  and  though  the  current  bore  him  considerably  down, 
and  the  rocks  bruised  him  cruelly,  at  length  he  reached 
my  side  in  safety.  He  walked  up  to  me,  a wet  and 
dripping  thing,  but  eager  for  the  biscuit  with  which  I 
rewarded  him ; and,  as  he  munched  it,  rubbed  his  nose 
familiarly  against  my  shoulder,  as  if  to  testify  his  good- 
will. An  exchange  of  whinnies,  now,  soon  brought  the 
other  horse  over,  after  a little  urging  ; and  Capt.  C.  cross- 
ing also  by  the  trees,  we  quickly  saddled  up,  and  were  off 
again.  A long  and  rather  perilous  descent,  over  a rocky 
and  precipitous  trail,  not  yet  repaired  after  the  spring 
washings,  brought  us  at  last  down  into  the  valley ; and 
soon  after  6 p.  m.  we  reached  Hutchings’.  In  truth,  it 
was  a hard  day’s  ride,  after  all.  We  had  been  twelve 
hours  in  the  saddle,  first  and  last ; but  had  come  thirty- 
seven  miles,  over  an  ugly  road,  and  were  the  first 
Americans  of  the  season  in  the  Yosemite. 

Here,  at  Hutchings’,  I spent  three  days  in  the  Yose- 
mite ; but  scarcely  know  where  to  begin,  or  how  to  speak 
about  it.  They  were  all  perfect  days  in  point  of  wreather, 
and  with  Mr.  Hutchings  usually  as  guide,  I made  the 
most  of  them.  He  was  then  one  of  the  only  two  settlers 


AT  HUTCHINGS’ 


449 


in  the  Yosemite,  and  his  house  the  only  real  place  of 
entertainment  there.  An  artist  and  an  author  himself  of 
considerable  merit,  more  than  a man  of  business,  he  had 
chosen  the  Yosemite  out  of  all  the  Pacific  Coast,  as  the 
best  place  to  live  and  die  in  ; and  was  content  to  be  shut 
up  here,  from  October  to  June  of  each  year,  without  even 
a newspaper  or  a word  from  the  outside  world,  during 
that  period.  From  June  to  the  last  of  September,  he 
always  had  more  or  less  company,  the  influx  of  sight-seers 
being  pretty  steady  and  constant;  but,  after  that,  the 
snows  interfered  with  travel,  and  with  his  family  he 
hibernated  there  the  rest  of  the  year.  With  rare  taste 
for  the  picturesque  and  the  sublime,  he  had  located  his 
house — only  a rough  shanty  then,  but  meant  to  grow  into 
something  better — in  the  very  heart  of  the  valley,  with 
huge  and  massive  El  Capitan  in  front,  the  incomparable 
Yosemite  Falls  to  the  right,  and  the  spire-like  Sentinel 
Peak  just  off  to  the  left.  Standing  on  his  lawn,  you  take 
all  these  grand  and  majestic  features  in  at  one  view,  and 
at  the  same  time  obtain  a general  view  of  the  valley  from 
there,  I think,  unsurpassed  elsewhere  down  in  it. 

The  first  day,  we  took  horses  and  rambled  leisurely 
through  the  valley,  crossing  and  recrossing  from  side  to 
side,  as  the  views  were  finest ; and,  much  as  had  been  an- 
ticipated, I confess,  I was  overwhelmed  with  admiration 
and  delight.  The  valley  itself,  running  about  east  and 
west,  is  some  five  miles  long  by  a half-mile  wide,  and 
seems  to  be  a fissure  or  crevice  in  the  heart  of  the  Sierras 
there ; or  rather,  as  if  the  bottom  had  here  dropped  out  of 
the  mountains,  and  the  lofty  Sierras  had  sunk  to  a level 
with  the  plain.  The  sharp,  almost  perpendicular,  sides  of 
the  valley  give  you  this  impression  further,  and  it  is  hard 
to  account  for  its  features  otherwise,  though  some  claim 
it  all  as  the  work  of  erosion,  like  the  glen  at  Watkins,  or 


450  THE  SOUTH  DOME,  AND  WALLS 

the  gorge  at  Niagara.  Its  walls  are  often  quite  perpen- 
dicular, half  a mile  or  more  in  height ; and  its  wonderful 
South  Dome,  rearing  its  crest  six  thousand  four  hundred 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  valley,  or  a mile  and  a quarter 
high,  seems  split  half  in  two,  as  if  one  half  had  suddenly 
disappeared,  with  its  northern  face  so  sharp,  that  a stone 
dropped  from  its  edge  would  fall  to  the  bottom  without 
striking.  This  had  never  yet  been  ascended,  and  proba- 
bly never  will  be — its  remaining  half-dome  is  so  smooth 
and  globular. 

The  general  color  of  the  walls  is  a grayish  yellow,  but 
here  and  there  they  are  mottled  with  green  and  black ; 
and  usually  in  every  niche  and  crevice,  where  a tree  can 
gain  a foothold,  great  spruces  and  pines  grow  luxuriantly. 
In  many  places,  however,  its  walls  stand  sheer  and  bare, 
great  masses  of  honest  granite,  from  half  a mile  to  a mile 
perpendicularly ; and,  perhaps,  I can’t  give  a better 
impression  of  them,  than  by  saying,  that  if  either  of  them 
was  toppled  over,  in  many  instances  it  would  fill  the 
valley  and  more.  Up  above,  on  the  summit  of  the  range, 
snow  lies  more  or  less  the  year  round  ; but  down  below, 
in  the  heart  of  the  valley,  you  have  the  general  climate 
of  California  outside,  but  without  its  aridity,  for  here 
showers  prevail  in  summer,  as  in  the  East.  When  I was 
there,  the  snow  still  lay  five  and  six  feet  deep  on  top  of 
the  walls  and  domes  ; but  below,  the  valley  was  a June 
meadow,  rich  with  herbage,  with  groves  of  pine  and  fir 
scattered  here  and  there,  shooting  up  two  and  three 
hundred  feet  into  the  air,  but  dwarfed  into  saplings 
apparently  by  the  majestic  walls.  Birch,  willow,  and 
dogwood  lined  the  streams ; the  primrose,  violet,  and 
other  early  flowers  dotted  the  lawns ; the  bluebird,  the 
robin,  and  the  bobolink — 


BRIDAL  VEIL  AND  YOSEMITE  FALLS — 


451 


“ June’s  bridesman,  poet  o’  tbe  year. 

Gladness  on  wings — ” 

twittered  among  the  trees  ; and  on  every  side,  wherever 
we  walked  or  rode,  the  wild  strawberries  were  ripening 
in  the  grass,  and  perfuming  the  breeze. 

Here  and  there,  plunging  over  the  lofty  walls,  were 
waterfalls  of  surpassing  beauty,  some  a mere  line  of  mist, 
tossed  hither  and  yon  by  the  passing  wind,  like  a veil  of 
gauze,  and  others  thundering  down  with  a voice  approach- 
ing even  Niagara’s.  Later  in  tl^e  season,  when  the  snows 
measurably  disappear,  these  falls  of  course  become  much 
shrunken  in  size,  and  visitors  behold  them  then  shorn  in 
part  of  their  beauty  and  sublimity.  But  just  then,  so 
early  in  the  season,  they  gave  one  full  greeting,  and  I 
counted  a score  or  more  from  different  points  thundering 
in  chorus.  We  rode  to  the  foot  of  the  Bridal  Yeil, 
usually  a sheet  of  misty  gauze,  but  now  a roaring  cata- 
ract, and  gazed  up  nine  hundred  feet,  to  where  it  leaped 
from  the  southern  wall.  Then  we  crossed  to  El  Capitan, 
a massive  bastion  or  angle  in  the  northern  wall,  of  solid 
granite,  rising  sheer  into  the  air  for  three-quarters  of  a 
mile  without  a break,  except  a niche  one-tliird  of  the 
way  up,  where  a tall  fir  has  gained  a foothold,  and  will 
never  be  molested  by  hand  of  man.  Thence,  wTe  turned 
and  rode  up  the  valley,  to  where  the  Yosemite  Fall 
plunged  boldly  out  from  the  northern  wall,  like  a thing 
of  life,  and  thundered  headlong  down  twenty-six  hundred 
feet,  or  fifteen  times  the  height  of  Niagara.  Above, 
where  it  leaped  from  the  cliff,  and  afterwards,  it  seemed 
a goodly  river ; but  long  before  it  reached  the  bottom, 
it  became  a column  of  mist,  which  the  wind  swayed  to 
and  fro  at  will,  but  whose  thunder  yet  shook  the  valley. 
From  there,  we  rode  back  to  Hutchings’ ; and  that  night, 
when  the  moon  rose  and  from  a cloudless  sky  flooded  the 


452 


NORTH  DOME  AND  SOUTH  FORK 


valley  with  her  silver  light,  Nature  seemed  to  be  en- 
deavoring to  out-do  herself  in  our  behalf. 

The  next  day,  we  rode  up  the  Merced  River,  which 
winds  through  the  valley  and  drains  it — a stream  ten  or 
twelve  feet  deep  by  twice  as  many  yards  in  width,  so  pure 
and  clear  you  may  everywhere  count  the  pebbles  at  the 
bottom — to  the  Lake,  and  Domes.  The  former  is  a small 
sheet  of  water,  of  wonderful  clearness,  that  reflects  the 
surrounding  mountains  and  falls,  like  a mirror  ; the  lat- 
ter are  dome-like  masses,  of  naked  rock,  peculiar  to  the 
Coast  scenery,  crowning  the  Sierras  just  there.  Of  the 
South  Dome,  I have  already  spoken ; the  North  Dome 
is  inferior  in  size  and  height,  but  is  complete  as  a dome, 
and  wonderful  to  behold.  A dozen  such  domes  as  crown 
the  capitol  at  Washington  could  readily  be  put  inside 
of  it,  and  there  would  be  room  for  several  more.  From 
here,  turning  an  angle  of  the  South  Dome,  we  caught  a 
superb  view  of  the  South  Fork  of  the  Merced,  as  it  came 
tumbling  over  the  mountain  wall,  a mile  or  more  away, 
an  unbroken  mass  of  foam.  At  that  distance,  it  seemed  a 
sheet  of  fleecy  whiteness — purest  lamb’s  wool — hundreds 
of  feet  in  height,  and  the  rocks  and  trees  framed  it  in 
as  a picture.  Returning,  we  rode  again  to  the  grand 
Yosemite  Fall,  and  tying  our  horses,  started  to  climb  to 
the  foot  of  the  fall,  which  seemed  not  very  far  above  us  ; 
but  again  California  air  deceived  us,  and  after  toiling  for 
two  or  three  hours  up  the  mountain-side,  from  bush  to 
bush  and  rock  to  rock,  without  reaching  it,  we  were 
forced  to  retrace  our  steps  by  the  approach  of  evening, 

The  next  morning,  we  saw  a thin  smoke  curling 
above  the  trees  in  the  lower  part  of  the  valley,  and  after 
breakfast  had  the  pleasure  of  greeting  Professor  Whit- 
ney and  party,  of  the  State  Geological  Survey.  They 
had  been  out  for  weeks,  geologizing  along  the  Sierras 


CASCADES  AND  VERNAL  FALL 


453 


south  of  the  Yosemite,  and  had  entered  the  valley  the 
evening  before  by  the  Mariposa  trail,  to  repeat  some  tri- 
angulations and  surveys  they  were  not  quite  certain  of. 
They  reported  the  Mariposa  route  as  rather  rough,  but 
practicable,  and  this  was  good  news,  as  they  were  the 
pioneers  of  the  season  that  way.  - There  wrere  five  or  six 
in  the  party,  all  active,  athletic  men,  as  keen  to  walk  and 
climb  as  to  analyze  and  cipher.  They  travelled  wfith  a 
pack-train, and  “ camped  out”  invariably,  and  their  Bed- 
ouin habits  had  made  them  all  as  brown  as  berries.  Greet- 
ings over,  our  horses  were  soon  at  the  door,  and  presently, 
we  all  set  off  together  for  the  Yernal  and  Nevada  Falls. 
A mile  or  so  above  Hutchings’,  we  struck  the  main  branch 
of  the  Merced,  and  turning  up  its  bank  soon  found  the  as- 
cent too  difficult  for  horses.  Dismounting  and  turning  our 
animals  loose  to  graze,  wre  proceeded  on  foot  by  a narrow 
trail,  that  w^ound  along  beneath  umbrageous  pines  and 
firs,  just  on  the  margin  of  the  river,  which  here  foamed 
and  roared  at  olir  feet  a rushing  cascade  for  a mile  or 
more.  Bounding  a shoulder  of  the  canon,  the  spray 
from  the  Yernal  Fall  suddenly  wet  us  to  the  skin  ; but 
exquisite  rainbows,  perfect  in  form  and  color,  began  to 
flame  and  circle  around  us,  until  it  almost  seemed  as  if 
you  could  put  their  many-colored  ends  in  your  pockets. 
Bainbows — quadrants  and  semi-circles — may  often  be 
seen  elsewhere  ; but  these  were  perfect  circles,  whirling 
around  and  about  us,  and  most  intense  in  color.  Moist 
as  we  were,  we  all  stopped  to  enjoy  the  scene,  and  were 
reluctant  to  move  onward. 

Here,  at  the  Yernal  Fall,  the  whole  mass  of  the  Mer- 
ced drops  350  feet,  without  a break,  and  the  volume  of 
water  just  then  was  very  great.  Stairways  and  ladders 
carry  you  to  the  top,  and  here  a natural  wall  or  breast- 
work of  solid  granite  enables  you  to  lean  out  and  overlook 


454 


NEVADA  FALL,  ETC. 


the  Fall,  and  Cascades,  and  wild  canon  beyond,  without  a 
tremor.  Above,  the  river  comes  shooting  like  an  arrow, 
over  half  a mile  of  polished  granite,  from  the  base  of  the 
upper  or  Nevada  Fall.  There  the  Merced  makes  another 
leap,  of  seven  hundred  feet  in  all ; but  half-way  down,  the 
rock  shelves  just  sufficiently  to  keep  the  water  on  the  flow, 
whence  it  pours  in  hurrying  sheets  of  lace-like  foam  to 
the  bottom.  The  water  here  seemed  really  instinct  with 
life  and  motion  ; the  long  lines  of  gauzy  foam  circled  ever 
downward  and  onward  ; and  the  whole  seemed  like  one 
vast  drapery  of  living  lace,  which  Nature  was  here  ever 
weaving  to  deck  the  Yosemite.  Valenciennes  and  point- 
lace  capes  and  collars, 'were  never  so  airy  and  exquisite  ; 
but  here  they  fell,  and  flowed,  and  circled,  in  snowiest 
tracery,  by  the  million. 

Returning  by  Mt.  Broderick,  we  rode  down  to  Senti- 
nel Peak  and  Cathedral  Rock,  with  Prof.  Whitney  and 
party,  having  much  interesting  and  delightful  talk  by 
the  way,  and  reached  Hutchings’  again  at  nightfall.  The 
day  had  been  a fatiguing  one,  so  much  of  the  route  was 
wild  and  rocky  ; and  I retired  early,  foot-sore  and  leg- 
weary.  Altogether,  however,  the  day  was  very  rich  and 
enjoyable ; and  I look  back  upon  it  now,  as  one  of  the 
noblest  and  best  I spent  on  the  Coast.  The  views  of  the 
Yosemite  were  everywhere  sublime  and  picturesque ; and 
at  sunset,  we  beheld  “ parting  day  ” still  playing  among 
the  Sierras,  while  the  Merced  and  meadows  down  below 
were  already  in  shadowy  twilight.  In  fact,  down  in  the 
valley,  looking  up,  you  never  see  but  a mere  ribbon-like 
line  of  sky  at  best,  flanked  on  either  side  by  mountains ; 
and  in  winter,  for  half  the  morning  and  half  the  after- 
noon, the  sun  is  never  visible  from  Hutchings’  at  all. 
The  Yosemite  is  simply  an  open  tunnel,  so  to  speak, 
half  a mile  or  more  deep,  in  the  heart  of  the  Sierras, 


THE  YOSEMITE  IN  WINTER. 


455 


and  in  wdnter-time  the  sunlight  cannot  have  much 
chance  there,  except  about  mid-day.  Doubtless  the 
snow  and  ice  there  then  must  be  something  gorgeous, 
and  sublime — glaciers  trailing  from  the  walls,  and  ava- 
lanches now  and  then  thundering  from  the  heights 
above,  to  the  far  depths  below. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


THE  TOSEMITE  TO  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

HE  next  morning  (May  31st),  I bade  good-bye  to 


Mr.  Hutchings,  most  hospitable  of  hosts  and  gra- 
cious of  guides,  and  started  to  return  via  Mariposa.  In 
addition  to  Capt.  Coulter,  I now  had  Mr.  Galen  Clark 
also,  who  had  piloted  Prof.  Whitney  in  from  the  Mari- 
posa Grove  of  Big  Trees.  Trotting  down  through  the 
meadow-like  valley,  we  reached  the  Professor’s  camp,  and 
found  them  just  packing  up,  for  their  return  via  Coulter- 
ville.  With  a hearty  hand-shake  all  around  and  mutual 
promises  to  meet  again  at  Stockton,  if  possible,  we 
parted,  and  continued  on  down  the  valley,  past  El  Capi- 
tan,  sublimest  of  mountains,  the  Three  Brothers,  and 
Bridal  Yeil  Fall;  and,  at  length,  turning  to  the  left, 
struck  the  Mariposa  trail.  One  would  naturally  suppose, 
that  an  exit  might  be  found  by  following  the  river  down ; 
but  the  Merced  passes  out  between  perpendicular  walls 
of  vast  height,  miles  in  extent,  so  that  the  only  way 
into  or  out  of  the  valley  then  was  by  the  old  Indian 
trails  to  Coulterville  or  Mariposa.* 

The  Mariposa  trail  runs  by  sharp  zigzags  up  the  south- 
ern wall,  taking  advantage  of  every  rock  and  bush  where 
an  Indian  could  find  a foot-hold,  and  we  found  it  a long  and 

* Now,  I believe,  a carriage-road  lias  been  blasted  out,  following 
the  Merced.  But  what  it  adds  in  comfort,  it  must  lose  in  scenery. 


INSPIRATION  POINT 


457 


toilsome  climb,  before  we  got  to  the  top.  We  were  over 
an  hour  by  the  watch ; but  when,  at  last,  wTe  rounded 
the  last  bend,  and  stood  perspiring  and  breathless  on  the 
jutting  ledge  of  Inspiration  Point,  what  a view  opened 
before  us  ! From  here,  you  get,  perhaps,  the  best  general 
view  of  the  Yosemite,  as  a whole,  that  can  be  had  ; and 
as  the  eye  sweeps  over  its  peaks  and  domes,  its  battle- 
ment and  towers — its  massive  walls,  its  flashing  streams, 
its  foaming  cataracts — its  fragrant  groves  and  sleeping 
meadows — the  soul  swells  with  unutterable  joy;  or, 
rather,  your  whole  being  bows  down  in  reverence  and 
awe.  To  the  right,  the  exquisitely  beautiful  Bridal 
Yeil  Fall  descends,  wreathed  in  mists  and  rainbows. 
Beyond,  the  Three  Brothers  and  Sentinel  Peak  pierce 
the  heavens.  To  the  left,  in  solemn  and  awful  grandeur, 
stands  El  Capitan,  severe  and  self-centred — monarch  of 
the  vale — dominating  all.  Beyond,  the  incomparable 
Yosemite  Fall,  as  if  pouring  from  the  clouds,  leaps  and 
sways  and  thunders — its  mist  at  times  streaming  like  a 
gorgeous  pennon,  its  deep-toned  base  a perpetual  Te 
Deum.  While  farther  still,  towering  above  all,  clear 
cut  and  distinct  against  the  sapphire  sky,  the  great 
South  Dome  rears  its  awful  front,  as  if  the  visage  of  the 
Almighty,  and  bids  the  universe  bow  down  and  wor- 
ship. Clinging  to  a gnarled  and  stunted  tree,  out-grown 
from  the  very  granite,  we  crept  far  out  upon  the  rocky 
ledge,  and  there  seemed  literally  enfolded  by  the  In- 
finite. 

The  overwhelming  sublimity,  the  awful  loneliness 
and  desolation  of  the  scene  — its  solemn  beauty  and 
grandeur — were  simply  unutterable.  It  was  a place 
to  make  one  feel  the  littleness  of  all  human  achieve- 
ments, and  to  lead  a man  out  of  himself  up  to  God. 
It  was  the  confrontal  of  God,  face  to  face,  as  in 


20 


458 


THE  HERMITAGE 


moments  of  great  danger,  or  in  solemn  and  sudden 
death.  It  was  the  perilous  edge  of  battle.  It  was  storm 
and  shipwreck.  It  was  Niagara,  many  times  magnified. 
It  was  Switzerland,  condensed  into  a coup  (P ml.  I had 
stood  on  the  Rocky  Mountains ; I had  descended  the 
Columbia ; I had  crossed  the  Sierras.  But  the  Yose- 
mite  was  all  of  these,  and  more,  compressed  into  one 
view ; and,  surely,  our  planet  has  not  its  equal.  Most 
fittingly  has  Congress  set  the  Yosemite  apart  from  the 
public  domain,  and  consecrated  it  to  mankind,  as  a 
National  Park  and  pleasure-ground  forever.  Let  it 
never  be  degraded  to  lower  uses.  So  far  it  was  yet 
free  from  debasing  associations,  and  California,  as  its 
natural  guardian,  must  keep  it  so.  Beyond  the  necessary 
paths  and  bridges,  it  had  so  far  escaped  our  so-called 
“improvements;”  and  hereafter,  as  heretofore,  it  is  to 
be  hoped,  Nature  will  be  allowed  to  work  her  own  sweet 
will  there,  unchecked  by  the  hand  of  man. 

But  our  stay  there  was  over,  and  lifting  our  hats  we 
bade  the  Yosemite  a reverent  good-bye,  and  mounting 
our  horses,  turned  our  faces  towards  Mariposa.  A short 
ride  along  the  well-defined  trail,  over  crackling  pine 
leaves  and  gigantic  cones,  brought  us  to  the  Hermitage 
— a huge  sugar-pine,  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  diameter, 
hollow  in  the  centre,  where  a Californian  aforetime  had 
made  his  home,  closing  the  entrance  with  a rude  door. 
It  afforded  him  a goodly-sized  room,  much  better  than 
many  of  the  border  cabins ; and  here,  in  the  midst  of 
the  gigantic  pines,  miles  away  from  any  human  habita- 
tion, as  he  swung  his  axe  or  boiled  his  pot,  he  must  have 
had  Solitude  to  his  hearths  content. 

Passing  on,  we  soon  struck  the  snow,  and  for  five  or 
six  miles  again,  as  when  coming  into  the  valley,  we  again 
had  a decidedly  “ hard  road  to  travel.”  To  plunge  and 


A GRIZZLY  BEAR  AND  CUBS 


459 


flounder  along  so,  through  snow-field  after  snow-field, 
was  tedious  and  toilsome  in  the  extreme;  but  there  was 
no  help  for  us,  and  we  struggled  on.  A mile  or  so  from 
Inspiration  Point,  in  crossing  an  open  glade,  where  the 
snow  had  melted  into  a pool,  we  caught  sight  of  grouse 
and  deer;  but  they  were  off  before  Clark,  an  experi- 
enced hunter,  could  get  a shot  at  them.  Some  two  miles 
farther  on,  we  came  out  into  a larger  opening,  and  as 
we  lifted  our  eyes  from  the  blinding  snow  saw,  right 
across  our  trail,  a hundred  yards  or  so  ahead,  a huge  she- 
grizzly  and  two  young  cubs.  We  were  all  on  foot,  lead- 
ing our  horses  over  the  snow  the  best  we  could — Capt. 
Coulter  behind,  Clark  and  I some  yards  ahead  abreast  of 
each  other — our  only  weapons  our  trusty  revolvers,  and 
a long  single-barrelled  rifle  of  Clark’s.  My  own  good 
Spencer  carbine  (seven-shooter),  that  I had  carried  so 
faithfully  across  the  continent,  and  through  Arizona, 
without  occasion  to  use  it,  I had  left  in  San  Francisco, 
not  thinking  it  necessary  in  California.  How  I wished 
for  it  now,  with  its  seven  good  balls  ready  for  instant 
use ! 

Simultaneously  with  our  sight  of  her,  Madame 
Grizzly  also  descried  us,  and  Clark  at  once  frankly  said 
we  were  in  great  danger,  if  she  showed  fight.  For  a 
minute  or  two,  she  stood  with  her  head  raised,  snuffing 
the  air,  as  if  calculating  the  chances,  and  then  delibe- 
rately wheeling  in  her  tracks,  shuffled  off  into  the  forest 
— her  cubs  gambolling  by  her  side,  like  clumsy  kittens. 
Clark  instantly  threw  me  his  bridle,  and  decided  to  try 
a shot,  if  he  could  sight  her  heart ; but  she  kept  herself 
well  under  cover,  as  she  moved  off,  and  he  was  afraid  to 
fire,  unless  certain  of  killing  her.  He  said  if  he  missed 
or  only  wounded  her,  we  would  have  to  take  to  the  trees, 
as  the  attack  would  make  her  savage  and  ferocious ; and 


46C 


THE  SILENCE  OF  THE  SIERRAS 


also,  that  if  her  cubs  happened  to  tarn  and  run  toward 
us  in  play,  as  they  often  did,  we  would  have  to  run  or 
climb  for  it,  as  she  would  take  this  also  for  a hostile 
movement,  and  assault  us  fiercely.  Under  the  circum- 
stances, clearly  discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor ; 
nevertheless,  Clark  wanted  the  brace  of  cubs,  and  when 
she  waddled  off  through  the  slush  and  snow,  he  followed 
cautiously  after,  resolved  to  try  his  luck,  if  she  gave  him 
a decent  chance.  From  bush  to  bush,  and  tree  to  tree, 
for  quite  a considerable  distance,  he  dodged  along  after 
her;  but  presently  returned,  without  firing,  declaring  the 
risk  was  too  great  for  such  a venture,  and  we  were  not 
sorry  to  be  well  rid  of  her.  She  was,  in  truth,  as  big 
as  a small  cow,  and  altogether  would  have  been  an  ugly 
customer  to  deal  with,  if  not  killed  at  the  first  shot. 

Clark  said,  grizzlies  were  now  rare  on  this  route, 
although  formerly  frequently  encountered.  And  indeed 
on  both  routes,  and  in  all  our  travel  among  the  Sierra 
Nevadas,  I was  struck  with  the  general  absence  of  ani- 
mal life — as  I had  also  been  among  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. I doubt  whether  in  either  of  these  ranges,  there 
is  anywhere  such  variety  and  extent  of  animal  life,  as 
we  always  find  East,  in  unfrequented  forests  and  moun- 
tains. The  solemn  stillness,  the  glad  silence,  the  perfect 
peace  and  rest  of  the  Sierras,  seemed  everywhere  pro- 
found ; and  nowhere  and  never  more  so,  than  during  this 
day’s  ride  in  general. 

Once  well  out  of  the  snow,  we  remounted  our  gamey 
little  steeds,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  the  trail  led  down 
and  over  the  ranges — through  magnificent  forests  of  pine 
and  spruce,  cedar  and  fir — where  to  ride  along  was  itself  a 
luxury  and  delight.  The  prevailing  tree  was  the  Cali- 
fornia sugar-pine,  so  called  because  the  Indians  obtain  a 
rude  sugar  from  boiling  down  its  sap.  These  sugar- 


TIIE  SUGAR-PINES — GALEN  CLARK — 


461 


pines  frequently  grow  ten  and  twelve  feet  in  diameter, 
and  shoot  up  two  hundred  and  fifty,  and  three  hundred 
feet  in  height.  They  bear  a gigantic  cone,  four  inches 
in  diameter,  by  sixteen  inches  in  length  usually  ; and 
lest  this  may  seem  like  a “ California'  story,”  perhaps  I 
should  add,  I myself  picked  up  one,  as  we  rode  along, 
measuring  over  eighteen  inches  in  length,  and  have  it  now 
in  my  private  cabinet.  Their  dead  leaves  carpeted  the 
ground  thickly  under  foot,  and  often  our  horses  ambled 
almost  noiselessly  along.  Overhead,  their  dense  shade 
excluded  the  sun,  which  hourly  became  more  uncom- 
fortable, as  we  descended  the  range;  while  the  moun- 
tain air  was  everywhere  resinous  with  their  perfume. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  we  crossed  the  last  ridge,  and, 
descending  into  the  valley  of  the  South  Merced,  halted  at 
“Clark’s,”  the  house  of  our  new  guide.  We  had  come 
twenty-two  miles  since  leaving  Hutchings’ ; and  here 
found  excellent  accommodations  for  the  night.  Mr.  Clark 
himself  was  from  the  East,  I believe  Pennsylvania,  but 
was  now  an  enthusiastic  Californian.  He  said  he  had 
come  to  California  years  before,  a confirmed  consumptive ; 
but  once  among  the  Sierras,  inhaling  their  resinous  breath, 
his  lungs  soon  healed,  and  here  now  he  meant  to  abide 
the  remainder  of  his  days.  He  could  not  live  in  San  Fran- 
cisco at  all,  the  air  was  so  raw  and  sharp  there ; but  here 
among  the  Sierras,  he  was  well  and  strong,  and  he  looked 
indeed  as  rugged  as  the  mountains  themselves.  His 
house  contained  several  comfortable  rooms,  and  already 
the  tide  of  Yosemite  travel  was  setting  that  way,  and 
paying  him  well. 

Six  miles  from  Clark’s,  on  the  border  of  Mariposa 
and  Fresno  Counties,  is  the  Mariposa  grove  of  Big  Trees. 
We  visited  them  next  morning  (June  1st),  under  the 
guidance  of  Clark  himself,  who  regards  them  as  his 


462 


MARIPOSA  BIG  TREES 


special  wards.  They  number  in  all  some  five  or  six  hun- 
dred, scattered  over  perhaps  a mile  square,  but  usually  in 
clumps  together.  You  ride  up  to  them,  through  an  open 
forest  of  huge  sugar-pines  and  cedars,  that  would  be 
regarded  as  sylvan  monsters  elsewhere — ten  and  twelve 
feet  over ; but  these  Big  Trees  dwarf  even  such  giants, 
into  pigmies.  Many  of  them,  indeed,  measure  twenty- 
five  and  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  and  run  up  three  hun- 
dred feet  or  more  in  height — the  first  hundred  feet  or  so 
without  a limb,  and  scarcely  diminishing  in  size.  Six  of 
them  are  over  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  and  from  ninety  to  a 
hundred  feet  in  circumference  ; fifty  are  over  sixteen  feet 
in  diameter ; and  two  hundred  over  twelve  feet.  The 
“ Grizzly  Giant,’’  the  largest,  is  thirty-three  feet  in  diam- 
eter, and  its  first  limb — ninety  feet  from  the  ground — is 
itself  six  feet  through.  Another,  still  standing  erect  and 
vigorous,  but  hollowed  out  by  fire,  three  of  us  rode  into 
on  horseback,  one  behind  the  other,  and  there  was  still 
room  for  more.  Another,  prone  on  the  ground,  and  with 
its  heart  eaten  out  by  fire — reduced  to  a huge  shell — we 
rode  through  on  horseback,  for  a hundred  feet  or  more, 
and  then  passed  out — by  a small  knot-hole ! 

Among  them  were  some  young  trees,  still  coming 
forward,  mere  saplings ; but  as  a rule,  these  Big  Trees 
( Sequoia  Gigantea , I believe  the  botanists  call  them) 
impress  you  with  their  great  age,  and  hoary  vene- 
rability.  With  many  the  mountain-fires  in  other  years 
have  made  sad  havoc,  scarring  and  half- consuming  some 
of  them  ; but  these  are  now  stopped,  the  Mariposa  Grove 
being  also  included  in  the  Congressional  grant,  which  sets 
apart  the  Yosemite  as  a National  Park  and  pleasure- 
ground  forever.  Their  bark,  often  eighteen  and  twenty 
inches  thick,  is  of  a pure  cinnamon-color,  and  fluted  up 
and  down  like  a Corinthian  column.  Their  wood  is  of  a 


BIG  TREE. 


THEIR  VENERABLE  AGE 


463 


deep  red,  and  much  resembles  that  of  the  great  red-wood 
trees,  that  are  found  everywhere  in  the  Coast  Range. 
Their  foliage  and  cones  are  much  like  those  of  our  ordi- 
nary yellow-pines  East,  though  their  leaves  are  somewhat 
smaller. 

The  trees  here  are  of  the  same  species  as  those  in  the 
Calaveras  Grove,  though  I believe  a few  of  the  latter 
are  rather  bigger.  They  are  also  found  elsewhere,  along 
the  western  slope  of  the  Sierra  Hevadas,  in  scattered 
groves  or  clumps ; but  the  whole  number  is  not  large. 
Evidently,  they  are  the  lingering  survivors  of  some  former 
geologic  period,  and  no  doubt  will  soon  become  extinct. 
Many  of  them  are  regarded,  as  already  two  thousand  years 
old — some  say  six  thousand  ; but  Professor  Whitney  as- 
sured me,  that  he  had  made  a very  careful  inquiry  into 
their  age,  counting  their  annual  rings  and  otherwise,  and 
he  doubted  if  any  were  older  than  the  Christian  era.  But, 
at  least,  here  are  trees,  that  were  wooing  the  air,  and  re- 
joicing in  the  sun,  when  the  babe  was  first  laid  in  the 
manger  at  Bethlehem.  They  have  been  growing  in 
beauty  and  majesty  ever  since,  through  all  the  sunshine 
and  storms  of  nineteen  centuries.  And  to-day,  they  stand 
as  matchless  pillars  in  God’s  great  temple,  to  testify  of 
His  skill  and  power — a fit  part  of 

“ That  cathedral,  boundless  as  our  wonder, 

Whose  quenchless  lamps  the  sun  and  moon  supply  ; 

Its  choir,  the  wind  and  waves  ; its  organ,  thunder; 

Its  dome,  the  sky.” 

Truty  marvels  in  themselves,  in  one  sense  these  Big 
Trees  of  California  are  the  greatest  natural  curiosity  in 
the  world,  because  no  other  country  possesses  any  trees 
like  them.  If  not  really  sui  generis , their  like*  at  least, 
I believe,  has  not  yet  been  found.  California,  at  her 
own  request,  has  been  appointed  their  lawful  guardian  ; 


464 


MARIPOSA  ITSELF 


and  the  nation  and  mankind  expect,  that  she  will  watch 
them  well.  It  would  seem  like  sacrilege,  indeed,  to  raise 
one’s  hand  against  them ; and  the  penitentiary,  surely, 
would  be  small  punishment,  for  such  a miscreant. 

Returning  to  Clark’s,  we  left  there  at  noon,  and  the 
same  evening  reached  Mariposa,  twenty-five  miles  dis- 
tant. The  scenery  most  of  the  way  was  superb,  vista 
after  vista  opening  constantly  before  us,  as  we  descended 
the  mountains  ; but  the  sun  had  already  acquired  a June 
fierceness,  and  the  heat  seemed  doubly  oppressive  to  one 
just  fresh  from  the  snows  of  the  Sierras.  We  rode  up 
to  the  Mariposa  House,  dusty  and  jaded,  travel-stained 
and  weary ; but  it  was  now  Saturday  night,  and  the  most 
inveterate  cynic  will  concede,  the  week  had  been  well 
spent. 

We  found  Mariposa  to  be  a straggling  village,  of  a 
few  hundred  inhabitants,  with  uncertain  prospects.  It 
is  the  centre  of  what  was  once  Gen.  Fremont’s  magnifi- 
cent estate — seventy  miles  square,  in  the  heart  of  Mari- 
posa County — and  formerly  was  much  noted  for  its 
mining  operations.  But  its  placer-mines  were  now 
mostly  abandoned,  except  by  John  Chinaman  ; and  its 
famous  quartz-mill,  that  cost  over  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars — perhaps  the  finest  in  California — was  standing 
idle.  The  Mariposans,  however,  had  great  faith  in  their 
mining  resources  still,  and  were  expecting  their  fine  mill 
to  resume  operations  soon.  In  the  interim,  the  town 
dozed  along,  in  the  Micawberish  way  common  to  stag- 
nant mining  centres  ; and  welcomed  my  arrival,  as  the 
advance  guard  of  the  Yosemite  travel,  for  that  summer. 

Here,  I bade  good-bye  to  Punty,  ever-faithful  pony, 
and  kindly  Capt.  Coulter,  my  companions  for  a week 
(good  luck  to  them  both  ! ),  and  took  the  stage  for  Stock- 
ton  again,  via  Honitos.  This  was  a ride  of  a hundred 


MT.  DIABOLO THE  OCCIDENTAL  AGAIN. 


465 


miles,  through  varying  landscapes — across  the  divides  and 
down  the  valleys  of  the  Merced,  Tuclomne,  Stanislaus, 
and  San  Joaquin  rivers — and,  though  hot  and  dusty,  w’as 
yet  thoroughly  enjoyable.  In  crossing  the  ridge  at  Bear 
Valley,  you  catch  a superb  view  of  the  Coast  Range  and 
Mt.  Diabolo,  a hundred  miles  away  ; and  for  the  rest  of 
the  ride,  Diabolo’s  lofty  crest  is  almost  always  in  view. 
Much  of  the  way  was  barren  and  uncultivated,  but  the 
ranches  and  settlements  were  yearly  pushing  farther  and 
farther  into  the  foot-hills;  and  as  we  neared  Stockton 
again,  the  illimitable  wheat-tields  were  everywhere  about 
us. 

At  Stockton,  I had  the  pleasure  of  again  meeting 
Prof.  Whitney  and  party,  and  further  comparing  notes 
about  California  and  the  Coast  generally.  Thence,  tak- 
ing the  steamer  together  for  San  Francisco,  we  reached 
there  again  June  4th — myself  somewhat  jaded  and  dilapi- 
dated, indeed,  but  richly  repaid  for  all  my  toil  and  fatigue 
in  going  to  the  Yosemite.  Kind  friends  welcomed  my 
arrival,  and  the  fine  fare  and  downy  beds  of  the  Occidental 
seemed  doubly  luxurious.  Its  proprietor,  of  course,  was 
a Leland — one  of  that  family  of  brothers,  who  beyond  all 
other  Americans,  know  excellently  well  “ how  to  keep  a 
hotel ; ” and  his  thoughtful  attentions,  his  genuine  kind- 
ness and  courtesy  to  everybody,  wTere  the  constant  re- 
mark of  strangers  on  the  Coast. 

20* 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  NEW  YORK. 

A RIDE  down  the  bay  (June  8th),  through  San  Mateo 
and  Melno  Park,  some  fifty  miles  to  San  Jose,  com- 
pleted my  wanderings  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  The  air  at 
San  Francisco,  fresh  from  the  ocean,  was  raw  and  rasp- 
ing ; but  at  San  Jose,  sheltered  by  the  Coast  Range,  the 
thermometer  measured  over  twenty  degrees  warmer,  and 
the  valley  there  seemed  sleeping  in  summer.  The  whole 
ride  by  railroad  is  through  farms  and  gardens,  and  San 
Jose  itself  we  found  embowered  in  roses  and  foliage. 
Here  are  old  Spanish  convents  and  churches,  with  their 
surroundings  of  vineyards,  fig-trees,  orange-groves,  etc., 
as  at  Santa  Barbara  and  Los  Angelos — only  better  pre- 
served— and  the  ride  thither  is  a favorite  excursion  for 
San  Franciscans  and  strangers.  The  sleepy  old  town  is 
in  vivid  contrast,  with  the  rush  and  whirl  of  the  Golden 
Gate  ; and  its  soft  and  delicious  air  proves  a soothing 
balm,  to  the  invalid  and  the  weak.  A fair  hotel  fur- 
nished good  entertainment,  and  the  place  seemed  indeed 
like  a haven  of  rest,  after  “ roughing  it  ” so  in  the  interior. 

Returning  to  San  Francisco,  the  last  farewells  were 
said,  and  June  10th,  at  11  a.  m.,  the  good  steamer  Consti- 
tution bore  us  away  for  Panama.  We  had  spent  six 
months  on  the  Coast,  and  would  fain  have  remained 
longer,  especially  to  visit  the  “ Geysers.”  But  my  official 


VOYAGE  DOWN  THE  COAST 


467 


work  was  ended ; and  besides,  I was  in  receipt  of  private 
letters,  that  required  my  presence  East.  The  10th  was 
“ steamer-day  ” — still  a recognized  event  in  San  Francisco. 
All  business  ended  then ; and  from  then,  began  again. 
There  was  a bustle  about  the  hotels,  and  an  air  of  import- 
ance everywhere.  Hundreds  thronged  the  vessel  and 
wharf,  to  see  their  friends  off,  and  tarried  till  the  last  mo- 
ment. But,  prompt  to  the  minute,  the  Constitution  cast 
loose,  and  rounding  into  the  stream,  was  soon  heading 
down  the  bay,  for  the  Golden  Gate  and  the  Pacific.  Past 
Alcatraz  and  Angel  Island,  past  Fort  San  Jose  and  Fort 
Point,  we  reached  the  bar,  and  crossed  it  in  a chopping 
sea,  that  soon  sent  most  of  the  passengers  to  their  berths. 

In  San  Francisco,  the  sun  shone  bright  as  we  steamed 
away,  but  the  air  was  raw  and  chilly  like  our  later 
autumn;*  and  once  out  at  sea,  we  found  an  overhanging 
mist,  that  often  deepened  into  a winter  fog.  This  un- 
comfortable weather  continued  for  a day  or  two,  keeping 
most  of  the  passengers  below  deck — many  of  them  sea- 
sick ; but  as  we  passed  down  the  coast,  the  weather 
gradually  moderated,  and  soon  we  were  sailing  beneath 
perfect  skies,  over,  indeed,  “ summer  seas.”  The  rest  of 
the  way  down,  what  a superb  voyage  it  really  was ! Look- 
ing back  on  it  now,  it  seems  rather  a grand  picnic  excur- 
sion, than  a bona  fide,  journey  by  sea.  The  ocean,  in  the 
main,  proved  itself  truly  Pacific.  We  were  very  seldom 
out  of  sight  of  land  by  day.  The  purple,  and  crimson, 
and  golden  hues  of  the  Coast  Range,  were  a perpetual 
wonder  and  delight.  Schools  of  porpoises,  and  now  and 
then  a vagrant  whale  enlivened  the  day  ; and  the  phos- 
phorescent waves,  wide-spreading  from  our  wake,  made 
our  track  a blaze  of  fire  by  night. 

* The  evening  before,  I saw  ladies  at  the  opera,  with  their  winter 
furs  on. 


468 


THE  STEAMER  CONSTITUTION — 


And  what  skies  those  were ! By  day,  “ deeply, 
darkly,  beautifully  blue;”  by  night,  one  blaze  of 
flaming  stars.  It  was  the  very  luxury  of  travel — the 
very  poetry  of  locomotion.  Sometimes  I would  lie  for 
hours  on  deck,  breathing  in  the  balmy  air,  watch- 
ing the  gulls  and  frigate-birds  as  they  hovered  in  our 
wake,  or  gazing  on  far-off  hill  and  mountain,  as  the 
shore  opened  up  before  us — losing  all  sense  of  thought 
and  action,  content  solely  with  being.  Even  novel- 
reading sometimes  seemed  a task,  and  writing  a great 
burden.  And  when  evening  came,  we  would  sit  and 
talk  tar  into  the  night;  or,  leaning  over  the  guards,  would 
watch  the  stream  as  of  liquid  fire,  that  boiled,  and  curled, 
and  rippled  away  beneath  us. 

As  we  got  farther  down  the  coast,  the  climate  became 
warmer ; but  blue-flannels  and  white-linens  in  place  of 
winter-woolens,  rendered  this  endurable,  and  indeed  the 
change  from  temperate  to  tropic — from  latitude  38°  to 
7° — did  not  seem  so  great  after  all,  barring  the  first  day 
or  two  out  from  San  Francisco.  Some,  however,  who 
had  not  provided  themselves  with  such  changes  of 
clothing,  complained  bitterly  of  the  heat  and  lassitude, 
though  most  of  us  got  on  very  well.  We  had  a thunder- 
storm one  night,  and  a stiff  rain  next  day,  when  well 
down  the  Mexican  coast  ; but  otherwise  were  favored 
with  uninterruptedly  fine  weather. 

From  San  Francisco  to  Panama  is  somewhat  over 
three  thousand  miles,  and  we  were  fifteen  days  in  mak- 
ing it.  Our  steamer  was  a fine  specimen  of  her  class, 
with  a burden  of  3,500  tons,  and  a carrying  capacity  of 
eleven  hundred  passengers,  besides  freight.  She  meas- 
ured three  hundred  and  forty  feet  in  length,  by  forty-five 
feet  in  beam,  and  her  great  deck  morning  and  evening 
was  a rare  promenade.  Of  passengers,  we  had  only 


CAPE  ST.  LUCAS — MANZANILLO 


469 


about  four  hundred  ; so  that  all  had  state-rooms,  and  to 
spare.  We  carried  our  own  beef,  and  mutton,  and 
poultry,  to  be  slaughtered  as  wanted  ; and  our  fare,  as  a 
whole,  was  excellent  and  generous.  Our  company,  it 
must  be  confessed,  was  rather  heterogeneous,  but  alto- 
gether was  social  and  enjoyable.  We  had  army  officers 
and  their  wives,  going  east,  on  leave  or  transfer ; a U. 
S.  Consul  from  the  Sandwich  Islands,  en  route  to  Wash- 
ington, on  public  business ; Englishmen  from  Hong 
Kong,  bound  for  Hew  York  or  London ; merchants, 
bankers,  and  gamblers  from  San  Francisco ; red-shirted 
miners  from  Hevada  and  Arizona ; and  women  of  all 
sorts,  from  fine  ladies  and  true  mothers,  to  dulcineas  of 
dubious  character.  The  general  decorum,  however,  was 
above  criticism ; and  on  Sundays,  when  a San  Francisco 
divine  held  service,  all  were  attentive  listeners,  notwith- 
standing his  High-Church  absurdities.  The  morning 
promenade  on  deck,  and  the  evening  smoke  on  the 
guards,  were  the  great  occasions  for  conversation,  and  all 
enjoyed  them  to  the  full. 

Our  first  stopping-place  was  at  Cape  St.  Lucas,  the 
extreme  point  of  Southern  California,  where  we  put  off 
two  passengers,  and  took  on  none.  Thence,  we  crossed 
the  mouth  of  the  Gulf  of  California,  and  halted  at  Man- 
zanillo, Mexico — a little  hamlet  of  two  or  three  hundred 
souls,  the  sea-port  of  the  fine  town  of  Colima,  some 
seventy-five  miles  inland.  Here  we  put  off’  a hundred 
tons  of  freight,  intended  for  the  interior,  and  spent  several 
hours.  Eight  days  out,  we  reached  Acapulco,  the  chief 
Mexican  port  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  world-famous  in 
other  days,  when  Spain  bore  rule  here.  The  harbor  is 
perfectly  land-locked,  with  bold  islands  off  the  mouth 
and  deep  water  close  in  shore,  and  here  ought  to  be  a 
great  and  puissant  city.  From  San  Francisco  down,  not 


470 


ACAPULCO 


counting  San  Diego,  this  is  the  first  really  good  harbor ; 
and  here  is  the  great  route  for  trade  and  travel,  across 
Mexico,  via  the  capital  and  Vera  Cruz,  to  the  Atlantic. 
Yet  we  found  only  a squalid  town  of  two  or  three 
thousand  inhabitants,  mostly  half-negro  and  half-Indian, 
with  a trace  of  the  Spaniard  here  and  there  mixed  in. 
A handful  of  Americans  and  Germans  controlled  the 
business  of  the  town  ; and  as  for  the  rest — they  seemed 
to  be  a lotus-eating,  inert  race,  not  inaptly  denominated 
“greasers.”  A general  look  of  decadence  prevailed 
everywhere  ; and  if  this  be  a sample  of  Mexican  civiliza- 
tion, after  a trial  of  two  centuries,  or  more,  alas  for  its 
future  ! Hot  a single  wagon-road  led  from  the  town  in- 
land, in  any  direction  ; and  the  only  means  of  transit,  to  or 
from  the  interior,  was  by  horse  or  mule-back,  over  wind- 
ing mountain-trails,  the  same  as  in  the  days  of  Cortez. 

We  reached  there  June  18th,  soon  after  breakfast ; 
and  had  scarcely  rounded  to,  before  the  Philistines  were 
— not  exactly  upon,  but — around  us.  They  swarmed 
about  our  vessel  in  bum-boats  and  dug-outs,  of  all  shapes 
and  sizes,  tendering  oranges,  limes,  bananas,  shells,  etc., 
for  a consideration — sending  them  up  the  ship’s  sides  by 
a cord  and  tiny  basket,  trusting  us  to  return  the  agreed- 
for  coin.  When  these  failed  to  please,  they  paraded 
their  skill  as  swimmers  and  divers,  plunging  under  like 
ducks  when  a coin  was  tossed  overboard,  and  sure  to 
catch  it  before  it  reached  the  bottom.  With  little  or  no 
clothing,  except  about  the  loins,  and  often  not  that,  they 
seemed  to  be  an  amphibious  sort  of  creatures — equally  at 
home  on  land,  or  sea. 

As  we  were  to  spend  several  hours  here,  taking  in 
coal  and  water  to  last  to  Panama,  many  of  us  embraced 
the  opportunity  to  go  ashore  and  see  something  of  the 
town.  When  we  touched  the  beach,  comely  maidens  of 


MEXICAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS 


471 


coffee-colored  complexion  met  us,  with  baskets  and  strings 
of  shells,  to  any  of  which  we  were  heartily  welcome, 
provided  we  paid  well  for  them.  They  always  tender 
their  wares  as  a “ gift,”  a trick  of  Acapulco’s,  as  also  of 
Manzanillo’s  and  Panama’s;  but  they  invariably  expect 
more  than  their  real  value,  in  return.  Passing  on,  we 
found  the  town  to  consist  of  one-story  adobes,  with 
streets  hardly  more  spacious  than  good  foot-pavements 
East,  and  with  little  business  to  speak  of,  except  what  the 
tri-monthly  steamers  supplied.  The  stores  were  chiefly 
baskets  or  boxes  on  the  side-walks  or  street-corners,  and 
even  these  were  in  charge  of  women,  while  the  lazy- 
looking  men  “ loafed  ” or  lounged  in  the  shade,  sipping 
their  aguardiente  or  whiffing  their  cigarritos  with  infinite 
content.  The  flocks  of  children,  from  infants  to  half- 
grown  youths,  were  usually  guiltless  of  raiment,  and  all 
seemed  supremely  happy,  if  only  sucking  an  orange  or 
munching  a banana. 

All  gazed  at  Los  Americanos  with  good-natured 
curiosity,  and  a score  were  eager  to  show  us  to  the 
U.  S.  Consulate,  which  was  already  well-designated  by 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  drooping  idly  from  its  staff.  The 
Consul  himself,  unfortunately,  was  absent ; but  his 
deputy,  Mr.  Sutter,  gave  us  kindly  welcome,  and  we 
spent  an  instructive  hour,  listening  to  his  stories  of 
Mexican  life  and  manners.  From  there,  we  went  to  the 
rude  church  or  “cathedral,”  on  the  plaza;  and  found  in 
its  tawdry  ornaments  and  doll-like  images — its  wax-figure 
Christs,  its  tissue-paper  angels,  and  pewter  amulets — an 
easy  explanation  of  the  ignorance,  and  squalor,  and 
stagnation  of  this  people.  The  fat  and  jolly  priest  sus- 
pended his  devotions,  to  sell  us  pewter  charms  (he 
swore,  by  the  Virgin,  they  were  silver !)  that  would 
insure  us  against  fever  and  shipwreck  on  the  voyage ; and 


472 


CENTRAL  AMERICA 


afterwards  he  invited  us  round  to  take  a sip  of  aguardiente 
and  see  his  favorite  game-cock.  Thence,  we  strolled 
down  the  beach,  between  rows  of  palms  and  bananas,  to 
the  old  Spanish  fort,  and  found  it  a solid  and  substantial 
structure  still,  though  a century  or  two  old.  True,  it 
would  not  stand  long  before  one  of  our  modern  monitors  ; 
but  it  was  a tine  work  in  its  day,  and  showed  well  yet. 
A company  or  two  of  dirty  and  ragged  soldiers  consti- 
tuted the  garrison — their  uniforms  heterogeneous,  and 
their  arms  really  worthless.  We  sent  our  compliments 
to  the  commanding  officer,  hoping  to  gain  an  entrance ; 
but  he  was  absent,  and  his  pompous  subordinate  declined 
to  admit  such  Northern  barbarians. 

Returning  to  the  Constitution , late  in  the  afternoon 
we  bade  good-bye  to  Acapulco ; and  thence,  following 
the  trend  of  the  continent,  across  the  gulf  of  Tehuante- 
pec, by  Guatemala,  by  San  Salvador,  by  Nicaragua,  by 
Costa  Rica,  and  finally  by  New  Granada,  at  last,  on  the 
morning  of  June  25th,  we  cast  anchor  at  Panama.  During 
all  of  this  week’s  sail,  we  were  hardly  ever  out  of  sight  of 
land,  and  usually  were  so  near,  that  we  could  note  the  flocks 
and  herds,  the  houses  and  trees,  and  rich  luxuriance  of 
this  tropical  coast  generally,  as  we  glided  by.  Lofty 
mountain-ranges  and  cone-shaped  peaks — old  volcanoes 
now  extinct,  rising  thirteen  thousand  and  fourteen  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea — were  generally  in  view  by  day  ; 
and  at  night  fitful  lightnings,  playing  apparently  from 
peak  to  peak,  often  lit  up  the  whole  heavens. 

Here  at  Panama,  the  key  of  two  continents  and  two 
oceans,  we  again  struck  the  busy  currents  of  modern 
life,  though  but  little  belonged  to  the  natives  there.  The 
broad  bay  itself,  with  its  shapely  islands  of  perpetual 
green,  crowned  with  the  ever-graceful  palm  and  banana, 
was  a delightful  scene,  tropical  thoroughly  ; but  here  also 


PANAMA 


473 


were  lines  of  busy  steamers,  from  Chili  and  Australia,  as 
well  as  California,  and  the  old  harbor  gave  multiplied  signs 
of  life  and  energy.  The  railroad  to  Aspinwall,  costly  as  it 
was,  both  in  life  and  treasure,  opened  up  a pathway  across 
the  Isthmus  to  the  commerce  of  the  world,  and  Panama 
stands  at  the  gate.  In  another  land,  or  with  a better 
people,  she  would  soon  become  a mighty  metropolis. 
But  we  found  her  much  like  Acapulco,  though  with 
broader  streets,  better  houses,  and  more  population.  I 
believe  she  claimed  four  or  five  thousand  inhabitants 
then  ; but  they  were  chiefly  a mixed  race,  in  which  the 
most  of  what  is  really  valuable  in  humanity  seemed  to 
be  dying  out.  They  had  no  public  schools,  and  scarcely 
knew  what  popular  education  meant.  Their  churches, 
venerable  only  for  their  age,  but  in  this  dating  back  to  the 
Spanish  conquest,  were  crumbling  to  ruins.  Their  relig- 
ion was  only  an  ignorant  superstition  or  savage  fanaticism. 
And  their  government,  so-called,  was  in  a state  of  chronic 
revolution,  so  that  nobody  seemed  to  know  when  it  was  up 
or  down.  Of  course,  the  real  business  of  the  town  was 
in  the  hands  of  foreigners — chiefly  Americans,  Germans, 
and  English — and  these  “ pushed  things,”  with  much  of 
their  wonted  skill  and  energy,  notwithstanding  the 
climate.  The  natives,  as  a rule,  contented  themselves 
with  driving  a petty  traffic  in  parrots  and  shells,  oranges 
and  bananas ; and  literally  swarmed  around  us,  until  we 
were  weary  alike  of  their  clamor  and  dirt. 

We  reached  Panama,  as  I have  said,  early  m the 
morning,  but  did  not  get  off*  for  Aspinwall  until  about 
noon.  All  this  time  was  spent  in  disembarking  passen- 
gers, with  their  baggage,  and  fast  freight ; but,  at  last, 
the  impatient  locomotive  whistled  “ up  brakes,”  and  we 
moved  slowly  off.  The  ride  across  the  Isthmus  is  fifty 
miles,  and  is  usually  made  in  two  or  three  hours ; but 


474 


TIIE  ISTHMUS  AND  RAILROAD 


half-way  across,  a baggage-car  broke  down,  and  we  were 
detained  four  hours  in  an  impenetrable  jungle.  It  had 
rained  that  morning  at  Panama,  and  the  sun  was  still 
obscured  : but  the  air  was  dense  with  heat  and  moisture, 
that  hung  as  if  in  strata  and  folds  about  you,  without  a 
breath  to  disturb  them — and  to  say  we  steamed  and  swel- 
tered, during  those  four  long  hours  there,  would  only  half 
express  our  perspiring  experience.  All  along  the  road, 
there  was  a tropical  luxuriance  and  splendor,  which  no 
word-painting  can  describe,  and  here  in  this  jungle  both 
seemed  to  culminate.  What  we  in  a sterner  clime  grow 
in  hot-houses  and  conservatories,  as  rare  exotics,  there 
rioted  in  the  open  air,  as  well  they  might,  and  all  nature 
seemed  bursting  with  exuberance  and  richness.  Under- 
neath, grasses  and  shrubbery  so  dense,  that  onl}  the 
machete  could  clear  the  way,  or  keep  them  under. 
Overhead,  the  lordly  palm  and  gracious  banana,  with 
flowering  vines,  pendent,  interlacing,  creeping,  and  twin- 
ing everywhere.  Bread-fruit  and  bananas  hung  every- 
where, in  clusters  as  big  as  half-bushel  baskets ; and  here 
and  there,  birds  of  brilliant  plumage  flitted  to  and  fro,  fit 
denizens  with  the  chattering  monkeys,  and  screaming 
parrots,  of  such  a wilderness.  The  wThole  ride,  indeed, 
through  the  heart  thus  of  the  tropics,  after  all,  was  a rare 
experience ; and  the  transition  from  the  steamer  to  the 
railroad,  notwithstanding  the  heat,  a welcome  change. 

The  railroad  itself  seemed  well  built,  and  fairly  man- 
aged. It  was  said,  indeed,  to  rest  literally  on  human 
bodies,  so  many  poor  fellows  perished  in  the  deadly 
miasmas,  while  constructing  it.  The  ties  and  sleepers 
were  of  lignum-vitae,  and  the  telegraph  poles  of  terra-cotta 
or  cement,  as  nothing  else  would  withstand  the  insects 
and  moisture  of  the  Isthmus.  The  stations  were  well 
apart,  and  seemed  maintained  solely  for  the  conveni- 


475 


ASPINWALL,  ETC. 

enee  of  the  road,  as  hardly  a passenger  got  off  or  on, 
except  employes  of  the  company.  We  could  see  the 
natives,  as  we  passed  along,  lolling  in  their  hammocks, 
or  stretched  out  on  mats,  in  their  rude  huts  of  poles  and 
palm-leaves  ; and  their  herds  of  children  ran  everywhere 
at  will,  as  naked  as  when  born.  Sometimes,  a few  of  the 
inhabitants  clustered  about  a station  : but  as  a rule,  this 
required  too  much  effort,  and  they  preferred  to  take 
their  dolce  far  niente  in  their  huts.  The  taint  of  the 
Spaniard  seemed  to  be  over  them  all ; or,  else,  nature 
was  too  kindly  to  them,  removing  all  incentive  to  exer- 
tion, by  omitting  the  necessity  for  it. 

We  ran  into  Aspinwall  at  6 p.  m.,  and  remained  there 
until  8 p.  m.  We  spent  the  time  in  exploring  the  town, 
but  found  little  to  interest  any  one.  It  had  no  storied 
past,  like  Panama ; and  its  future  depended  on — Pacific 
Mail.  Some  found  cheap  linens,  wines,  and  cigars,  as 
Aspinwall  was  a free  port,  and  laid  in  a stock  for  future 
consumption,  to  the  damage  of  our  Customs  Revenue. 
But  the  most  of  us  were  sated  and  weary,  with  the  day’s 
rare  experiences,  and  were  glad  when  the  steamer’s  bell 
rang  “ All  aboard  ! ” Our  High-Church  chaplain  proved 
to  be  our  only  really  useful  man;  at  Aspinwall,  after  all. 
He  married  a couple,  while  we  halted  there  ; and  would 
have  married  another,  had  there  been  time.  Both  had 
been  waiting  several  weeks,  much-enduring  souls — Aspin- 
wall, it  seems,  not  affording  a minister. 

Our  complement  of  passengers  had  been  swelled,  by  ac- 
cessions from  Valparaiso  and  Melbourne  ; and  hence,  from 
Aspinwall  to  New  York,  we  were  rather  overcrowded. 
Our  good  ship  Rising  Star  was  staunch  and  sea-worth}^ ; 
but  without  the  roomy  accommodations  of  the  Constitu- 
tion, or  her  thorough  appointments.  Her  beef  and  mutton 
were  all  brought  from  New  York  on  ice,  to  last  for  a 


470 


HOME  AGAIN 


twenty-day’s  voyage  to  Aspinwall  and  back ; and,  before 
we  reached  New  York,  were  not  like  Caesar’s  wife — above 
suspicion.  But,  on  the  whole,  there  was  little  to  com- 
plain of ; and  the  ship’s  officers  certainly  did  their  utmost, 
to  make  everybody  content  and  comfortable. 

Our  route  to  New  York,  distant  about  two  thou- 
sand miles,  lay  across  the  Caribbean  Sea,  and  thence 
off  the  eastern  terminus  of  Cuba,  through  the  West 
Indies,  home.  We  had  some  rough  weather,  with  con- 
tinuous thunder  and  lightning,  as  it  seemed,  for  a day 
or  two,  while  crossing  the  Caribbean.  But,  once  past 
that,  we  entered  a region  of  blue  skies  and  balmy  breezes, 
and  sighted  New  York  in  eight  days  from  Aspinwall. 
We  passed  Cuba  so  near,  that  her  green  hills  and  moun- 
tains seemed  within  a stone’s  throw  ; and,  threading  the 
West  Indies,  struck  the  Gulf  Stream,  whence  both  steam 
and  current  hurried  us  forward.  We  reached  Sandy 
Hook  at  sundown,  July  3d,  where  they  quarantined  us 
till  morning,  much  to  our  disgust.  But  the  4th  broke 
gloriously,  over  city  and  bay  ; and  amid  ringing  bells,  and 
firing  cannon,  and  fluttering  bunting,  we  steamed  proudly 
up  the  harbor — it  never  seemed  so  magnificent  before — 
and  touching  the  pier,  thus  ended  our  journey. 

To  land  on  such  a day  seemed  a fit  conclusion,  to  such 
a twelve-month’s  ramble,  across  the  continent  and  over 
the  seas  ; and  that  evening  at  home,  surrounded  by  loving 
friends,  seemed  doubly  dear  from  the  long  absence  and  safe 
return.  How  much  we  had  seen  of  the  Great  Republic — 
only  a little  can  be  told  here ! How  it  enlarged,  and  digni- 
fied, one’s  conception  of  the  Fatherland  ! What  a mag- 
nificent country  we  really  have — washed  by  two  oceans, 
crowned  with  mountains,  and  gemmed  with  lakes;  and 
yet,  evidently,  it  is  only  a prophecy  of  that  Greater  Amer- 
ica, when  we  shall  occupy  the  continent,  from  the  Arctic 


“ adios.”  477 

down  to  the  Isthmus,  with  teeming  millions,  and  convert 
the  Pacific  practically  into  a Yankee  sea.  Well  might 
Whittier,  our  truest  seer,  melodiously  sing : 

“ I hear  the  tread  of  pioneers, 

Of  nations  yet  to  he  ; 

The  first  low  wash  of  waves,  where  soon 
Shall  roll  a human  sea.” 

And,  best  of  all,  over  all  this  broad  land,  there  shall  then 
be  but  one  flag  and  one  freedom,  one  law  and  one  liberty, 
one  Right  and  one  Justice,  for  us  and  for  all  men — 
wherever  born  and  of  whatever  faith,  however  poor  or 
however  humble.  And  to  this  end,  and  for  this  purpose, 
let  us,  and  all  who  love  the  English-speaking  race,  if  not 
mankind,  sincerely  pray,  God  save  the  Republic! 

In  conclusion,  let  me  add,  to  the  many  friends  we  met 
everywhere  en  route , for  their  numberless  kindnesses 
and  unstinted  courtesies,  we  were  much  indebted;  and  I 
wTould  gratefully  record  my  sense  of  this  here.  Nobler 
souls,  more  generous  spirits,  than  most  of  the  people  we 
encountered,  especially  in  Colorado  and  California,  never 
breathed ; and  here  is  good  fortune  to  them,  one  and  all, 
wherever  they  may  chance  to  be!  Surely,  they  have 
fought  a good  fight,  in  their  rough  life  on  the  border, 
preparing  the  wTay  for  civilization,  and  deserve  well  of 
their  country  and  their  kind. 

But,  all  things  must  end — this  volume  included  ; and 
so,  O reader,  in  the  vernacular  of  the  Coast,  “Adios” 
and  good-bye ! 

Trenton,  N.  J.,  March,  1874. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


♦ 

On  page  51  I speak  of  the  Plains  as  the  great  stock-raising  and 
dairy  region  of  America,  in  the  future.  As  some  evidence  of  how 
fast  this  prophecy  is  becoming  fact,  I append  the  following  extracts 
from  an  article  by  Dr.  H.  Latham,  in  the  Omalia  Herald  of  J une  5, 
1870: 

“ Demonstrated  Facts . — The  season  of  1870  has  been  a memorable 
one  in  the  stock  business  on  the  Plains.  It  commenced  in  doubt,  but 
closes  with  unlimited  confidence  in  the  complete  practicability  and 
profits  of  stock-growing  and  winter  grazing. 

“ Increase  of  Cattle  in  the  West. — The  number  of  cattle  in  the 
country  west  of  the  Missouri  River  and  east  of  the  Snowy  Range,  is 
now  double,  if  not  four  times  larger  than  in  1869.  Its  present  mag- 
nitude and  future  prospects  entitle  it  to  a full  share  of  public  atten- 
tion. 

“ Shipments  of  Beef  to  Eastern  Markets. — Two  years  ago  our  beef 
and  cattle  were  brought  from  the  East.  To-day,  cattle-buyers  from 
Chicago  and  New  York  are  stopping  at  every  station  on  our  railroads, 
and  buying  cattle  in  all  our  valleys  for  Eastern  consumption.  It  is 
safe  to  predict  that  15,000  head  of  beeves  will  be  shipped  from  our 
valleys  East  the  present  season.  During  the  past  week  I have 
visited  some  of  the  great  herds  on  the  Plains,  and  will  give  your 
readers  an  account  of  them. 

“ The  Great  Herds. — The  herds  of  Edward  Creighton,  Charles 
Hutton,  and  Thomas  Alsop,  are  grazed  on  the  Big  Laramie,  which  is 
a tributary  of  the  North  Platte.  The  Laramie  Valley  is  between 
the  Black  Hills  and  the  Medicine-Bow  Range.  It  is  about  one 
hundred  miles  long  and  thirty  miles  wide.  It  is  about  midway  in 
this  valley,  and  six  miles  from  the  railroad  station  at  Laramie,  that 
these  gentlemen  have  located  their  stock  ranches.  They  have 
extensive  houses,  stables,  and  corrals.  As  we  leave  the  station  on  a 
beautiful  August  morning  (which  is  characterized  by  the  clearest  of 
blue  skies  and  golden  sunlight),  you  see  Mount  Agassiz  directly  in 
21 


482 


APPENDIX. 


front  of  you,  while  Mount  Dix  and  Mount  Dodge,  with  snow-covered 
tops,  are  respectively  on  the  right  and  left. 

“ We  follow  up  the  Laramie  on  a smooth  road,  which  is  like  roll- 
ing the  wheels  over  a floor.  We  follow  the  windings  of  the  stream, 
which  is  clear  as  crystal,  and  pure  as  the  snow  from  which  its 
waters  have  just  come.  We  first  come  to  a herd  of  4,000,  half  and 
three-quarter,  breed  cows  ; that  is,  there  are  none  more  than  one-half 
Texan,  and  many  only  one-fourth.  They  are  known  among  cattle 
dealers  as  sliort-horned  Texas  cattle.  There  are  3,600  calves  in  this 
herd,  that  are  from  three-eighths  to  one-half  Durham.  These  cows 
have  been  here  on  the  Plains  one  winter  and  two  summers.  All  the 
dry  cows  are  exceedingly  fat,  and  many  of  the  cows,  with  calves  by 
their  sides,  are  good  beef.  In  this  herd  are  many  two-year-olds  and 
yearlings,  all  fat  for  the  butcher,  so  far  as  their  condition  is  con- 
cerned. In  all  this  herd  there  are  as  many  as  9,000  head  of  cattle — 
4,000  cows,  3,600  calves,  1,000  two-year-olds,  and  500  yearlings. 

“ Their  Habits. — They  range  over  a country  fifteen  by  twenty 
miles.  The  cows  and  calves  run  together  the  year  around,  and,  in 
fact,  are  never  separated,  but  run  in  families  of  four,  generally,  cow, 
calf,  yearling,  and  two-year-old.  They  are  to  be  found  on  the  river 
bottoms  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  where  they  had  come  about  11 
o’clock  for  water.  They  return  about  4 o’clock  in  the  afternoon  to 
the  high  grounds,  where  the  rich  bunch  and  the  nutritious  gramma 
grasses  are  abundant,  and  feed  till  night,  and  lie  down  on  the  warm 
sandy  soil  till  next  morning,  when  they  feed  till  the  heat  of  the  day 
It  is  interesting  to  see  the  habits  of  these  cattle  when  unrestrained 
by  herders.  They  travel  back  and  forth  to  the  water  and  grazing- 
ground  in  families  and  little  herds,  in  single  file,  like  their  prede- 
cessors of  the  soil,  the  buffalo,  forming  deep  paths,  or  trails,  like 
them.  After  having  spent  three  or  four  liouo*s  looking  at  this  herd, 
we  pass  up  the  river  to  the  beef  herd,  which  consists  of  3,500  fat 
Texas  cattle,  in  the  very  highest  order  at  which  grass-fed  cattle 
arrive  in  this  world.  These  cattle  have  been  here  one  or  two  seasons, 
and  will  weigh,  upon  an  average,  live  weight,  1,300  pounds.  They 
could  all  be  sold  to-day  for  Eastern  markets  at  good  figures.  They 
have  yet  three  months  of  good  weather  to  fatten  this  season,  when, 
with  5,000  more,  bought  by  these  enterprising  men,  and  on  their 
way  here,  they  will  be  sold  East,  or  slaughtered  and  sent  East  in  the 
quarter. 

“ There  is,  still  higher  up  the  stream,  and  nearer  the  mountains, 
a stock  herd  of  yearlings  and  two-year-olds,  that  occupy  our  time  for 
an  hour  or  two. 


APPENDIX. 


483 


" Blooded  Stock  Cattle. — Then  we  cross  over  to  Sand  Creek,  a 
small  branch  of  the  Laramie,  and  see  the  herd  of  American  cattle, 
which,  including  Hutton’s  and  Alsop’s,  numbers  400,  mostly  cows. 
They  are  as  fine  stock  as  can  be  found  anywhere.  Among  this  herd 
are  several  fine-graded  Durham  bulls,  and  two  thoroughbreds  that 
were  bought  in  Ohio  at  high  prices.  These  parties  are  owners  of 
300  blooded  bulls,  from  which  the  finest  calves  are  being  raised  by 
the  cross  between  them  and  the  graded  Texan  cow.  It  is  interest- 
ing for  the  stock  man  to  see  these  calves,  which  show  the  Durham 
so  clearly  in  every  instance — another  proof  of  the  general  law  that 
the  stronger  and  better  blooded  of  the  two  races  will  give  form  and 
impress  to  the  progeny.  This  fact  is  remarkably  illustrated  in  these 
herds — the  second  and  third  crosses  leaving  no  trace  of  the  Texan 
blood. 

“ Here,  on  this  ranch,  are  300  brood  mares,  and  some  young  stock, 
yearling  and  two-year-old  colts,  which  have  been  raised  here,  and 
have  never  been  fed  nor  sheltered.  They  are  as  large  and  fine  colts 
as  are  raised  anywhere.  These  brood  mares  and  colts  are  herded, 
but  never  stabled  nor  fed  winters. 

“ Sheep. — We  next  proceed  to  these  flocks  of  sheep,  which  in  all 
number  more  than  10,000  head,  besides  the  lambs — of  these  there 
are  3,000 — making  in  all  13,000.  Some  of  these  are  from  New 
Mexico,  but  the  great  majority  are  from  Iowa,  and  are  fine  Merino 
sheep.  They  will  average  fully  five  pounds  of  wool  per  head. 
Ample  shelters  have  been  provided  them  in  case  of  storm.  Much 
the  larger  number  of  these  flocks  are  ewes.  The  owners  expect  to 
raise  6,000  lambs,  and  to  shear  65,000  pounds  of  wool  next  year. 

“ These  parties  have  about  five  miles  of  fence,  inclosing  hay 
grounds,  pastures  for  riding  stock,  and  other  purposes.  They  have, 
in  all,  more  than  $300,000  invested  here,  which  is  a sufficient  com- 
mentary upon  their  enterprise,  foresight,  and  courage.  They  are  the 
great  stock  princes  of  the  mountains.  Of  all  living  men  they  have 
done  most  to  solve  this  question  of  winter  grazing. 

“ We  next  proceed  to  the  Little  Laramie,  where  Messrs.  Mautle 
& Bath  have  400  head  of  American  and  half-breed  stock  ; they  are 
at  the  old  stage-road  crossing,  and  have  some  fine  blooded  stock. 
Above  them,  behind  Sheep  Mountain,  directly  under  the  white  top 
of  Mount  Dodge,  named  after  General  Dodge,  on  the  head  of  the 
Little  Laramie,  is  a valley  twenty  miles  long  and  ten  miles  wide, 
divided  about  equally  by  the  north,  middle,  and  south  forks  of  that 
stream.  These  are  rapid  running  streams  that  never  freeze  in  win- 
ter. They  have  groves  of  timber  on  their  banks  and  bottom  lands 


APPENDIX. 


484 

furnishing  shade  in  summer  and  shelter  in  winter.  This  valley  is  a 
pocket  in  the  mountains,  having  only  one  point  of  ingress,  and  no 
egress  but  by  the  same  way.  Here  are  2,900  cattle  owned  by  Lam- 
bard  & Gray,  of  New  York,  Captain  Coates  of  the  Army,  and  the 
subscriber.  Three  men  are  able  to  herd  them,  from  the  nature  of 
the  valley,  and  it  is  certainly  a cattle  paradise.  Of  this  herd,  1,200 
are  cows,  700  two-year-olds,  300  yearlings,  and  700  calves.  This 
stock  is  short-horned  Texan,  and  a good  lot  of  stock  cattle. 

“ Iliff ’s  Herds  on  Crow  Creek. — After  leaving  this  herd,  we  take  a 
three-hours’  run  on  the  railroad,  which  takes  us  across  the  Black 
Hills  to  Cheyenne,  which  is  the  headquarters  of  J.  W.  Iliff.  His 
cattle  range  is  down  Crow  Creek  to  the  Platte,  twenty  to  thirty 
miles.  On  this  grazing  ground  he  has  6,700  cattle,  classed  as  fol- 
lows : 3,500  beeves,  2,000  cows,  and  1,200  calves.  The  stock  cattle 
are  half-breeds,  except  yearlings  and  calves,  which  he  has  raised, 
and  which  show  the  Durham  cross.  The  beeves  are  heavy,  fat 
cattle,  ranging  in  live  weight  from  1,200  to  1,400  pounds.  This 
whole  range  down  Crow  Creek,  from  Cheyenne  to  the  Platte,  affords 
the  best  of  grasses,  and  the  creek  bluffs  shelter  the  stock  completely 
from  storms.  Mr.  Iliff  has  been  the  owner  of  great  herds  of  cattle 
in  the  last  twelve  years,  and  is  firm  in  the  faith  that  this  is  the 
place  to  raise  beef  for  Eastern  markets.  His  cattle  have  sold  in 
Chicago  market  from  five  to  six  cents  per  pound,  live  weight,  this 
season.  7'he  whole  3,500  head  of  beeves  will  be  shipped  East  this 
fall.  Mr.  Iliff  is  another  of  those  who  have  demonstrated  to  the 
world  that  we  have  winter  grazing,  and  in  so  doing  he  has  made  a 
fortune.  Long  may  such  men  live  to  enjoy  their  fortunes ! 

“ On  the  other  side  of  the  Platte,  on  the  Bijou,  are  the  herds  of 
the  Patterson  Brothers,  Reynolds,  and  John  Hitson.  These  herds 
number  8,000  head  of  cattle,  6,000  of  them  being  beef-cattle.  The 
Patterson  Brothers  are  great  cattle-raisers  and  dealers.  They  own 
ranches  on  the  Arkansas  River,  at  Bent’s  Old  Fort,  and  on  the  Pecos 
River,  below  Fort  Sumner,  in  New  Mexico.  They  have  handled 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars’  worth  of  cattle  in  the  last  five 
years. 

“ John  Hitson  is  another  of  the  great  cattle-raisers  and  dealers  in 
New  Mexico.  His  herds  are  numbered  by  the  thousands.  His 
operations  are  transferred  to  Colorado  now,  and  so  are  those  of  the 
Patterson  Brothers.  On  Box-Elder  Creek,  which  is  a branch  of  the 
Cache  la  Poudre,  is  the  ranch  and  stock  range  of  Mr.  Whitcombe, 
an  old  settler  of  Colorado.  He  has  2,000  stock  cattle  and  some  fine 
blooded  bulls.  This  range  and  shelter  are  perfect. 


APPENDIX. 


485 


“ Reed  & Wyatt,  on  tlie  Platte,  nearer  Denver,  have  1,000  head 
of  stock  and  beef  cattle.  They  are  about  adding  largely  to  their 
number. 

“ Farwell  Brothers,  Greeley,  have  200  head  of  fine  American 
cattle. 

“ Baily,  on  the  south  side  of  the  Platte  from  Greeley,  has  400 
head  of  Durham  and  Devon  stock,  and  2,000  sheep. 

" Geary,  on  the  Platte,  has  300  head  of  American  cattle. 

“ The  Lemons,  at  Greeley,  have  400  head  of  American  stock.  In 
this  neighborhood,  Ashcraft  has  400  head  of  American  cattle  ; Mun- 
son has  800  head  of  cattle  and  3,000  sheep.  Up  the  Cache  la  Poudre 
are  twenty  large  stock-raisers. 

“ On  the  Big  and  Little  Thompson’s  there  are  some  five  herds  of 
blooded  stock. 

“ After  you  leave  Evans  and  go  south  towards  Denver,  the  whole 
country  seems  one  pasture  covered  with  stock.  I travelled  over 
this  same  ground  in  1869,  and  I am  sure  there  are  fully  three  times 
as  many  cattle  here  now  as  then.  There  are  hundreds  of  farmers 
on  the  Lone-Tree  Creek,  Cache  la  Poudre,  Big  and  Little  Thomp- 
son’s Creeks,  St.  Vrain’s,  and  many  other  streams  which  flow  from 
the  mountains  to  the  Platte,  who  have  from  one  hundred  to  one 
thousand  head  of  cattle,  a description  of  whose  herds  and  grazing 
grounds  would  take  too  much  space  in  an  article  of  this  kind. 

“ Shipments  of  Cattle  West. — Colorado  has  sold  an  immense  num- 
ber of  cattle  this  season  to  Montana,  Idaho,  Nevada,  and  Utah.  It  is 
safe  to  say  that  Montana  will  receive  twenty  thousand  head  of 
cattle  during  the  season  of  1870,  four-fifths  of  which  are  from  Colo- 
rado. Many  have  gone  to  Utah,  Nevada,  and  Idaho  from  the  same 
source,  and  yet,  ten  years  ago,  the  commercial  and  stock-growing 
people  of  the  East  did  not  know  that  Colorado  contained  a thousand 
acres  of  grass  land.  To-day  they  have  no  idea  of  the  magnitude  of 
her  grazing  resources. 

“ Leaving  Colorado,  we  find  some  herds  along  the  base  of  the 
Black  Hills. 

“North  of  Cheyenne. — H.  Kelly,  on  the  ‘Chug,’  has  500  stock 
cattle.  He  sold  100  head  of  American  beeves  at  $70  per  head. 

“ Messrs.  Ward  & Bullock,  at  Fort  Laramie,  have  200  head  of 
American  cattle. 

“ Adolph  Cluny,  so  long  a resident  on  the  North  Platte,  has  a 
herd  of  1,000  stock  cattle  between  Forts  Laramie  and  Fetterman. 

“ Between  Cheyenne  and  Sidney,  on  the  line  of  the  railroad, 
there  are  several  small  herds.  At  Sidney  are  the  Moore  Brothers, 


486 


APPENDIX. 


who  have  12,000  sheep  and  lambs,  and  1,400  cattle  ; 400  of  the  latter 
are  American  and  very  fine.  The  sheep  sheared  an  average  of  five 
pounds  of  wool  per  head  last  spring.  They  are  graded  Merinos,  and 
are  in  fine  condition.  There  is  no  disease  among  them.  The  Moore 
Brothers  were  ranchmen  on  the  South  Platte,  prior  to  the  day  of 
railroads,  and  are  about  returning  to  that  stream  for  grazing.  Their 
place  is  the  Valley  Station  of  olden  fame  on  the  stage  road.  Above 
them,  on  the  Platte,  at  the  old  ‘ J unction/  Mr.  Mark  Boughton  has 
2,500  stock  cattle.  He  has  as  fine  a cattle  range  as  there  is  in  the 
world,  not  excluding  the  Pampas  of  South  America  nor  table-lands 
of  Australia. 

“ Farther  down  the  Platte,  at  O’ Fallon’s  Bluffs,  on  the  north  side 
of  the  South  Platte,  Creighton  & Parks  have  3,500  stock  cattle, 
400  of  which  are  Durliams.  They  range  twenty  miles  up  and  down 
the  Platte.  Near  them,  below,  is  the  herd  of  Mr.  Keith,  of  North 
Platte  Station,  who  has  about  1,000  head. 

“ Mr.  M.  H.  Brown  has  500  head  of  stock  cattle  and  beeves  near 
the  same  place. 

“ Across  the  Platte,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  McPherson,  the 
Bent  Brothers  have  1,000  head  of  stock  cattle,  and  will  add  another 
1,000  the  present  season. 

“ Messrs.  Carter  & Coe  have  a large  herd  near  there,  which 
numbers  near  a thousand. 

“ Mr.  Benjamin  Gallagher  has  1,200  head  at  the  old  Gilman 
ranch,  twelve  miles  from  McPherson. 

“ Progress  this  Season. — More  real  progress  has  beea  made  in 
stock  matters  west  of  the  Missouri  this  season  than  in  all  time 
before.  We  have  not  only  added  to  the  numbers  of  our  herds  and 
flocks,  but  we  have  given  confidence  to  all  our  stock-growers  and  to 
Eastern  people  in  the  permanency  and  profit  of  grazing  in  the  Trans- 
Missouri  country. 

“ We  are  now  in  easy  reach  of  Eastern  markets.  The  railways 
are  landing  the  heaviest  cattle  in  Chicago  from  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains at  $9  and  $10  per  head  ; we  can  sell  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  annually  to  the  Pacific  slope,  and  there  is  still  an  all- 
absorbing  home  demand  to  stock  our  thousands  of  valleys. 

“ The  Future. — As  every  country  in  the  West  receives  a new 
emigrant,  and  his  plow  turns  the  grass  under,  that  corn  and  wheat 
may  grow  in  its  stead,  the  range  of  the  stock-grower  is  that  much 
contracted,  and  the  area  of  grazing  lessened.  By  reason  of  the  high 
value  of ‘lands  for  grain-growing  purposes  the  people  of  the  country 
east  of  the  Mississippi  River  are  already  coming  to  us  for  beef  and 


APPENDIX. 


4:87 


mutton.  Chicago  and  New  York  people  are  enjoying  the  juicy 
steaks  from  cattle  fattened  on  our  nutritious  grasses  that  grow  in 
our  valleys  and  on  our  mountain-sides,  close  up  to  the  perpetual 
snows  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

“ As  immigration  takes  up  more  and  more  of  the  pastures  east 
of  us  for  grain,  drovers  will  be  obliged  more  and  more  to  come  to  us 
for  beef.  Texas,  the  great  hive  of  cattle,  has  received  three  hun- 
dred thousand  settlers  this  season.  The  grazing  area  of  that  State 
has  been  lessened  at  least  a million  acres  thereby.  Everywhere 
events  point  to  this  Trans-Missouri  country  as  the  future  depend- 
ence of  the  East  for  wool,  beef,  mutton,  and  horses.” 


Page  60. — The  following  article,  clipped  from  the  New-York 
Times,  contains  so  much  valuable  information,  bearing  on  the  ques- 
tion of  Irrigation,  as  related  to  the  Plains  and  the  great  Internal  Basin 
of  the  Continent,  that  I venture  to  insert  it  here.  It  seems  to  be  a 
careful  resume  of  the  facts  that  were  brought  before  the  notable 
Convention  of  Governors  and  others,  that  met  in  Denver  in  the 
autumn  of  ’73,  to  consider  the  question  of  a general  and  comprehen- 
sive system  of  irrigation  for  all  that  region  : 

WATER  SUPPLY  FOR  THE  GREAT  PLAINS  REQUIRED. 

Correspondence  of  the  New-  York,  Times. 

Denver,  Colorado,  Friday,  Oct.  17,  1873. 

It  is  a fact,  perhaps  not  generally  considered,  that  the  ninety 
ninth  meridian  of  longitude  west  from  Greenwich,  the  meridian  of 
Fort  Kearney  on  the  Platte,  and  Fort  Hays,  marks  a division  line  in 
the  physical  geography  of  the  continent.  Here  the  prairies  merge 
into  the  great  plains,  and  the  abundant  rain-fall  of  eastern  meridians 
ceases.  West  of  this  line  lies  one-half  of  the  area  of  the  United 
States,  all  of  which,  excepting  a small  strip  on  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific,  is  without  sufficient  rain-fall  for  the  cultivation  of  the  soil. 
This  great  arid  region  comprises  more  than  two-tliirds  of  Kansas 
and  Nebraska,  a large  portion  of  California,  Oregon,  Washington, 
and  Texas,  and  nearly  all  of  Colorado,  Wyoming,  Utah,  New  Mexico, 
Idaho,  Montana,  Arizona,  Nevada,  and  Dakota.  Here  are  one  million 
square  miles  of  barren  country,  and  the  question  is,  What  shall  we 
do  with  it  ? 


48S 


APPENDIX. 


The  keen  interest  felt  in  this  matter  has  been  evident  from  the 
large  attendance  upon  this  convention,  and  the  mass  of  information 
and  argument  presented.  Whatever  has  been  done  thus  far  toward 
reclaiming  any  portion  of  these  waste  lands  has  been  by  individual 
enterprise,  except  in  Utah  and  New  Mexico  a system  of  irrigation 
has  been  enforced  by  legislative  enactments.  In  New  Mexico  the 
acequias  are  the  most  important  features  of  the  country.  The  sub- 
sistence of  the  people  depends  upon  them,  and  the  laws  protecting 
them  fill  many  pages  of  the  statute  books.  An  overseer  of  acequias 
is  selected  in  every  precinct,  who  fixes  the  number  of  laborers  to  be 
furnished  by  each  land-owner,  apportions  their  work,  and  distributes 
the  water.  Yet  not  over  300  square  miles  is  under  cultivation  in 
that  Territory.  In  Utah,  where  there  is  in  operation  the  most  com- 
plete and  successful  system  of  irrigation  in  this  country,  only  about 
140,000  acres  are  under  cultivation.  By  legislative  enactment  the 
counties  have  power  to  build  canals  just  as  they  build  roads.  Water 
commissioners  are  chosen  at  regular  elections,  in  each  county,  and 
their  services  are  paid  out  of  the  general  tax  levy,  and  they  give 
bonds  for  the  faithful  performance  of  their  duties.  Subordinate 
commissioners,  or  water  masters,  are  selected  by  neighborhoods, 
cities,  and  towns,  and  they  are  paid  by  assessments  on  the  land. 
There  are  now  over  1,200  miles  of  irrigating  canals  in  Utah,  with  a 
capacity  for  watering  100,000  acres.  The  population  of  the  Terri- 
tory is  upward  of  150,000.  It  has  190  prosperous  towns  and  cities. 
Its  farm  products  are  shipped  into  the  neighboring  Territories,  and 
even  into  the  Missouri  Valley.  In  Colorado  there  has  been  no  gen- 
eral plan  of  irrigation.  Private  corporations  build  canals  and  sell 
the  water  therefrom  to  the  ranchmen.  Several  of  the  towns  are 
supplied  in  this  way.  The  colonies  have  also  done  much  in  this 
respect.  But  no  general  system  has  been  adopted  in  that  Territory, 
nor  has  the  legislature  ever  taken  cognizance  of  the  situation.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  other  States  and  Territories  interested  in 
this  movement.  Irrigation  has  been  limited.  The  few  acres  that 
have  been  reclaimed  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  streams  and 
canons,  near  the  mountains,  bear  no  comparison  to  the  vast  body 
of  plain  and  desert  stretching  hundreds  of  miles  in  every  direc- 
tion. 

The  cost  of  constructing  irrigating  canals  varies  according  to 
the  character  of  the  country.  The  average  in  Colorado  has  been  $7 
per  acre.  It  is  thought  by  competent  engineers  that  in  a general 
system  of  canals  for  the  Plains,  east  of  Denver,  the  cost  must  run 
from  $10  to  $15  per  acre.  According  to  careful  estimates,  Colorado 


APPENDIX. 


489 


has  a water  supply  sufficient  to  irrigate  6,000,000  acres,  an  arable 
area  which,  in  Egypt,  in  the  times  of  the  Ptolemies,  supplied  food 
for  8,000,000  people.  The  Plains,  extending  from  the  foot-hills  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  eastward  nearly  300  miles,  comprise  about 

25,000,000  acres.  Of  this  vast  tract  there  are  1,500,000  acres  belong- 
ing to  the  Kansas  Pacific  Railway  Company,  lying  south  of  the 
Platte  River,  and  which  a canal  from  the  Platte  Canon  to  the  head- 
waters of  the  Republican  will  cover.  Such  a canal,  12  feet  wide 
and  3 feet  deep,  will  cost  $1,000  per  mile.  It  will  make  lands 
that  now  go  a-begging  at  $2.50  per  acre  worth  from  $10  to  $15. 

The  want  of  water  is  the  one  and  only  drawback  to  the  settle- 
ment of  the  Trans-Missouri  country.  Farming  along  the  streams 
has  been  carried  on  enough  to  show  that  the  soil  is  not  only  fertile, 
but  extremely  so,  insuring,  with  plenty  of  water,  crops  surpassing 
those  of  the  best  farming  districts  elsewhere.  The  average  yield, 
year  in  and  year  out,  through  the  Rocky  Mountain  region,  when- 
ever irrigation  is  employed,  has  been  found  to  be  as  follows  : Wheat, 
27  bushels  per  acre  ; oats,  55 ; potatoes,  150  to  200 ; onions,  250  ; 
barley,  33.  This  is  far  above  the  average  of  Illinois  or  Ohio.  It  is 
believed  that  the  mountain  streams,  if  turned  into  proper  channels, 
will  irrigate  the  greater  part  of  the  Plains,  both  east  and  west  of  the 
Mountains.  This  is  particularly  true  of  Western  Kansas  and 
Nebraska,  Colorado,  Utah,  Wyoming,  and  New  Mexico.  The  great 
rivers  of  the  Platte,  Arkansas,  Rio  Grande,  and  Colorado  could  be 
divided  at  or  near  their  source  in  the  mountains,  and  made  to  cover 
vast  quantities  of  land.  In  Utah,  it  is  proposed  to  take  out  canals 
from  the  Jordan,  Weber,  and  Bear  rivers,  diminishing  the  supply 
in  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  distributing  it  over  other  adjacent  portions 
of  the  territory.  And  in  California,  engineers  have  been  sent  out  to 
turn  the  Colorado  River  into  the  desert  of  Arizona,  and  Southern 
California. 


Page  279. — Her  statistics  (San  Francisco)  for  1873  are  equally  sig- 
nificant, and  foot  up  about  as  follows  : In  that  year  over  70,000  peo- 
ple arrived  there,  by  land  and  sea,  and  less  than  half  that  number 
departed.  Nearly  4,000  vessels  entered  her  harbor,  measuring  about 

2.000. 000  tons.  She  exported  10,000,000  sacks  of  wheat,  and  nearly 

1.000. 000  barrels  of  flour;  and  Californians  claimed.it  wasn’t  much 
of  a year  for  “ wheat w,  either ! The  total  wheat  crop  of  the  State, 
which  mostly  sought  her  wharves,  was  estimated  as  worth  fully 


490 


APPENDIX. 


$26,000,000,  or  nearly  $10,000,000  more  tlian  in  1872 — prices  being 
higher;  the  wool-clip,  say,  $7,000,000  ; the  wine  product,  $2,000,000. 
Her  total  exports,  of  all  kinds,  was  estimated  at  about  $80,000,000  ; 
and,  best  of  all,  while  her  exports  had  largely  increased,  her  imports 
had  considerably  decreased.  Real  estate  had  been  dull  for  a year  or 
two,  and  yet  her  sales  that  year  aggregated  about  $15,000,000 ; 
while  her  mining  stocks  sold  for  $150,000,000,  and  paid  dividends 
about  $14,000,000,  as  against  less  than  half  that  amount  in  1872. 
The  cash  value  of  her  property  was  estimated  at  $250,000,000  and 
of  the  State  at  about  $600,000,000. 

California’s  yield  of  the  precious  metals  in  1873  was  estimated  at 
about  $18,000,000,  which  was  some  two  millions  less  than  in  1872, 
and  was  already  surpassed  by  her  magnificent  wheat  crop  of 
$26,000,000.  Her  total  agricultural  products  for  ’73  were  believed 
to  aggregate  $80,000,000  ; while  all  her  mines  and  manufactures 
produced  only  about  $70,000,000,  though  employing  nearly  double 
the  number  of  people.  Evidently,  with  her  vast  area  of  120,000,000 
acres  of  land,  of  which  fully  40,000,000  are  fit  for  the  plow,  our 
farmers  there  have  a brilliant  future  before  them,  notwithstanding 
they  will  have  to  irrigate  to  raise  some  crops. 


Page  324. — The  following  is  a table  of  mean  temperature  at 
Santa  Barbara  for  the  year  1870-1  : 


April,  average  of  the  three  daily  observations. . . 

...  60  62° 

May, 

ft 

ft 

tt 

. ..  62.35 

June, 

tt 

tt 

tt 

...  65.14 

July, 

a 

tt 

. ..  71.49 

Aug., 

tt 

tt 

ft 

...  72.12 

Sept., 

a 

tt 

it 

. ..  68.08 

Oct., 

if 

tt 

ft 

. ..  65.96 

Nov., 

“ 

•• 

ft 

. ..  61.22 

Dec., 

tt 

" 

tt 

. ..  52.12 

Jan., 

ft 

H 

ft 

...  54.51 

Feb., 

tt 

“ 

tt 

...  53.35 

March, 

« 

tt 

tt 

. ..  58.42 

Average  temperature  for  the  year,  60.20°. 


APPENDIX. 


491 


COLDEST  DAY. 

WARMEST  DAY. 

April  12th 

..  60° 

April  16tli 

. . 74° 

May  15th 

..  66 

May  23d 

..  77 

June  1st 

..  69 

June  3d 

..  80 

July  26th 

..  76 

July  1 ltli 

. . 84 

Aug.  11th 

..  77 

Aug.  8tli 

. . 86 

Sept.  23d 

..  66 

Sept.  27th 

. . 90 

Oct.  23d ; 

..  60 

Oct.  20th 

. . 92 

Nov.  7th 

..  64 

Nov.  20tli 

..  87 

Dec.  15th 

..  52 

Dec.  28th 

..  71 

Jan.  11th 

: Jan,  3d 

..  76 

Feb.  22d 

..  42 

i Feb.  28th 

..  71 

March  13th 

..  56 

i March  27th 

..  83 

Coldest  day  in  the  vear,  Feb.  22d 

..  42° 

Warmest  day  in  the  year,  Oct.  20th 

. . 92 

Variation 

. . 50 

Compare  these  with  the  average  temperature  of  the  Atlantic 
Coast,  say  at  Trenton  or  New  York,  and  what  a paradise  for  invalids 
Santa  Barbara  must  be 


Page  434. — Our  yield  of  the  precious  metals  for  1873  was  excep- 
tionally fine,  and  the  following  table  of  the  total  for  that  year,  from 
the  districts  west  of  the  Missouri  River,  gave  immense  satisfaction 
on  the  Pacific  Coast : 


California $18,025,722 

Nevada 35,254,507 

Oregon 1,376,389 

Washington 209,395 

Idaho 2,343,654 

Montana 3,892,810 

Utah 4,906,337 

Arizona 47,778 

Colorado 4,083,268 

Mexico 868,798 

British  Columbia 1,250,035 


Grand  total $72,258,693 


492 


APPENniX. 


The  total  yield  for  1872  was  only  $62,236,913;  so  that  here  is  a gain 
of  $10,000,000  or  so  in  one  year.  This  extra  increase,  however,  was 
chiefly  from  Nevada,  whose  total  product,  it  will  be  seen,  about 
equals  that  of  all  the  others ; and  it  must  be  credited  mainly  to  the 
great  Comstock  Lode,  whose  ores,  it  is  now  about  demonstrated, 
grow  richer  and  better,  the  deeper  you  go  down,  like  the  best  mines 
of  Mexico  and  Peru.  In  1871  they  averaged  only  $27  per  ton  ; in 
1872  they  increased  to  $32  ; and  in  1873  to  $40.  These  figures  well 
sustain  Mr.  Sutro’s  theories,  and  his  great  tunnel  may  yet  become  a 
fixed  fact,  ere  long. 


INDEX, 


PAGE 

Acapulco 470 

“ people  of 470 

“ cathedral 471 

“ fort 472 

Acequias 82,  833,  487 

Across  the  Mountains 150 

“Adios” 477 

Adventure  among  Utes 120-3 

“ “ Die^anos 351-2 

**  on  bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco  294 

M with  grizzly  bear  and 

cubs 459 

ASsculapius,  a son  of. ...  272 

Agua  Frio . 287 

Age  of  Big  Trees 463 

Alkali  region 150-3 

Alaska 291 

Alcatraz 293 

Alamo. 347 

American  eagle 109 

“ Falls  of  Snake 218 

“ a Representative 382 

Antelope 37,  51,  149 

Aucantash 115,  125 

Angel  Island 293 

Anaheim 340 

Ancient  ruins  in  Arizona 395 

Anomalies  in  Arizona,  etc 421 

Arkansas,  the 82 

“ Valley  of. 82-104 

u Little lo4 

Argonauts,  Bret  Ilarte’s 288 

Army  Life  on  Pacific  Coast 293 

“ -lady  in  Arizona 413 

“ nurseries  of  the 418 

Arizona  City 355 

Arizona  generally 372,  394 

“ her  quicksands 388 

“ her  chief  drawback 414 

“ her  anomalies 421 

“ her  ancient  ruins 395 

“ her  quails  and  rabbits . . 409-21 


“ her  uiiucs 378,  399,  414 


PAGE 

Assays,  mining 68 

Astoria 270 

Asylums,  Chinese 312-14 

Aspinwall 475 

Autocrat  of  Utah 179 

Aubrey  City 414 

Average  Westerner 43,  93 

“ Coloradoan 98 

Aztecs 367,  395,  406 

Baker’s  Ranch 55 

Bailie,  a Mexican 91-3 

Bartering  with  Indians 131-2 

Baker  City 231 

Banquet  at  Denver 62 

Bar  of  the  Columbia 271 

Banquet  at  San  Francisco 304 

Barbary  Coast,  “ 310 

Bankrupt  Law  of  Chinese 312 

Banning,  Gen.  P 331-39-40 

“ Bed-rock  ” 73 

Belvidere  Apollo 213 

Bear  River 214 

Bee-Hive  House 175 

Better  things  ahead 299 

Bell’s  Canon 393 

Beale’s  Springs 410 

Beaver  Lake 415 

Bear  Valley 465 

Bergh,  Mr.  Henry 238 

“ Big  Injun”  stories 38 

Bierstadt’s  skies 105 

Bitter  Creek 150 

“ “ country 150-3 

Bill  of  Fare,  a hard 221 

Big  Trees  of  California 462 

Black  Hawk 64 

Black-Butte  Station 152 

Blue  Mountains 234-6 

Blackbirds  at  Tucson 376 

“Black’s” 445 

Boys  in  Blue 28 

Border  missionary,  a 39 

“ bishop,  a.' 59 


494 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Bogus  mining  companies 69 

Boise,  valley  of 219 

Boise  City 223-6 

“Borers” 377 

Bower  Cave 445 

Bradford’s  Hill 110-12 

Brent,  John 84 

Bridger’s  Pass 150 

Bridger,  Jim 158 

Brigadier-Generals  abundant 173 

Brigham  City 212 

Breakdown,  a 241 

Breakdown,  another 246 

Browne,  Boss  J .70,  226 

Brain  of  the  Northwest 266 

hroderick  monument 280 

Building  stone,  fing 27 

Puchser,  M 43 

Buffalo  region 50 

, “ grass 50 

“ as  engineer 52 

“ Bull-drivers  ” 54-237 

Butte  region 78 

Buckskin  Joe 107 

Burt,  Maj 158 

Burnt  River 228 

Bunch-grass 365 

Cavalier  and  Corncracker 23 

Camping-out.  .35,  76,  88,  349,  362,  419 
“ near  summit  of  Rocky 

Mountains 102 

Cafiou  City 81 

Cafiou,  Echo 159 

“ of  Columbia 255 

Castle  Rock 78,  256 

Castle  Dome 363 

Carson,  Kit (see  K) 

Carson  City 436 

Carter,  Judge 159 

Carter,  Colonel 415 

Cannon,  George  Q 16S 

Calico  horses 252 

Cascade  Mountains,  passage  of..  .*255 

Cascades,  Lower 255 

California  at  last 274 

“ her  growth 279,489 

“ wines  generally 338 

“ natives * 293,  328,  342 

“ mines 427 

“ live-oaks 426,  441 

“ wheat-fields 426,441 

“ wind-mills 441 

“ statistics 279,  489 

Cajon  Pass 422 

Calaveras  Big  Trees 463 

Cape  St.  Lucas 469 

Cactus,  columnar 368 

Carissa  Creek 349 


PAGE 

Caribbean  Sea 476 

“ Cavalry  Gregg  ” 407 

Cayotes,  or  wolves 216 

Central  City  and  mines 62-4 

Celilo 253 

Centipedes 417 

Central  Pacific  Railroad 428 

“ its  grades 428 

“ snow-sheds 429 

Central  America 432 

Chicago 23 

Cherry  Creek 58,  65 

Chivington  massacre 139 

Church  Butte 153 

Children  of  Brigham  Young 180 

Chinaman,  John 225,  268 

Change  from  dry  to  wet 258 

Churches  of  San  Francisco 287 

Christmas  in  San  Francisco 292 

Chinese  Question,  the 300-21 

“ merchants 304 

“ New  Year 311 

“ bankrupt  law 312 

“ temple  or  Josh-house... . 312 

“ religion 314 

China’s  necessity  America’s  op- 
portunity  315-16 

Chemisal. . . . 345 

Charley,  Dicgano 351 

Changes  of  elevation 416 

Cincinnati t 23 

Cisco 428 

Clear  Creek. 63-64 

Claims,  mining 66 

Clawson,  Brig. -Gen 175 

Climate  of  Colorado 76,  100,  143 

“ Oregon  and  Washing- 
ton  263 

“ San  Francisco 281,  467 

“ Santa  Barbara 324,490 

“ San  Diego 328 

“ Los  Angelos 334 

“ of  Mexican  Coast 468 

“ Isthmus  of  Panama. . . 474 

Cliff  House  and  sea-lions 295-6 

“Clarke’s” 461 

Clarke,  Galen 461 

Coming  man 70 

Companies,  bogus 69 

Compagnons  da  voyage 33 

Costly  supplies 49,  375,  407 


Copper,  etc 63,  378 

Colorado  ores . . 68 

“ mineral  resources 69-71 

“ Springs 80 

“ City 81 

“ farming 82 

“ desert 344-46 


INDEX. 


£95 


PAGE 

Coloradoan,  an  average 98 

Corkscrew  creek,  a 87 

Costello,  Judge 107 

Council,  Indian 114-16 

Councils  of  war 160 

“ Clive  on 160 

Cox,  Jack 132 

Courts.  U.  S.,  in  Utah 193-6 

Columbia  River,  etc 251 

“ Clarke’s  Fork  of 251 

“ bar  of 271 

Conner,  Capt 270-3 

Commerce  and  wealth  of  San 

Francisco 279,  489 

Comstock  Lode 433,  492 

Coin  vs.  Greenbacks 290 

Conclusion  as  to  Chinese 320 

Cock-fights 335,  471 

Cottonwood  Canon 410 

Constitution  steamer 468 

Colima 469 

Costa  Rica 472 

Conclusion 477 

CoulterviJle 444 

“Crawford’s” 244 

Crossing  the  Rocky  Mountaius..84,  150 

“ the  Blue  Mountains 234 

“ bar  of  the  Columbia. . . . 271 

“ Gila  and  Salado 383 

“ Sierra  Nevadas 428,  437 

Cruelty  Prevention  Society 

wanted 238 

Gumming,  Gov ..........  61 

“ his  speech  to  Utes 126 

Currants,  wild 63 

Culebra 90 

Cuba 476 

Dancing  people,  a 92 

Dance  with  Indians,  a 133 

Dacotah 150 

Danites  or  Thugs 189 

Dalles,  the 254 

Darwinism 259 

Dante’s  Inferno 411 

Denver..! 58 

“ her  growth,  etc 60 

“ reception  of  Sherman,  etc.  62 

Desert  of  the  Mountains 150 

Deer 410 

Desolation,  genius  of. 411 

Deserters 422 

Departure  from  San  Francisco. . . 467 

“ Divides  ” 35,  73 

“ Diggings  ” 65,  107 

Dirty  VV  Oman’s  Ranch 78 

Diabolo,  Mt 465 

Divine,  a High-Church 469,  475 

Dodge,  Gen 144,  248 


PAGE 

Dogberry,  an  Idaho 226 

Donkeys,  dilapidated 234-8 

Down  the  Columbia 249 

Donner  Lake 431 

Down  the  Sierras 438 

Drive,  an  anxious 239 

Drake’s  Plantation  Bitters 249 

Dry  to  wet 258 

Duck-shooting 106-9 

Duluth 267 

Eagle,  a plucky 109 

Echo  Canon 159 

Election  imbroglio 61 

Elk 149 

El  Dorado  Cafion 414 

Elevation,  changes  of. 416 

Empire  City 107 

Emigrant  trail 215 

“ a typical 406 

English  capital 62 

Englishman,  a sturdy 67 

Englishmen,  enterprising 443 

Enforce  the  laws 205 

Enfans  terribles 249 

Erie  Railroad 21 

Exasperated  teamster 43 

Exaggeration,  Western 96 

Example,  a shining 298 

Exploring  the  country 386 

Exploits  of  Apaches 402 

Fall-Leaf 29 

“ his  theology 30 

“ his  bravery 31 

Fancy  Creek 38 

Fair  Play,  Col 106 

Falls  of  Snake  River 218 

Fare,  hard  bill  of. 221 

Farewell  Bend 230 

Farrallones 295 

Fatherland,  our 476 

Fellow-passengers 43 

Fenian  friends 260 

Fellow-passengers  home 469 

Fiat  Justitia 321 

Fish-hooks  vs.  ox-carts 371 

Flood-stayed 382 

Fluctuations  of  mining  stocks 435 

Forethought 239 

Fourth  of  July 476 

Fort  Alcatraz 277,  294 

“ Benton 252 

“ Boise 227 

“ Bowie 376 

“ Bridger 227 

“ Cameron 376 

“ Cape  Disappointment 271 

“ Camp  Cady 421 


496 


INDEX. 


PAGE 


PAGE 


Fort  Camp  Douglas 

“ Colville 

“ Churchill 

“ Garland 

“ Goodwin 

“ Grant 

“ Halleck 

“ Kearney 

“ Laramie 

“ Leavenworth 

“ Lovell 

“ McDowell 

“ Mojave 

“ Morgan 

“ McPherson 

“ Point 

“ Riley 

“ Rock  Springs 

“ San  Jose  

“ Sedgwick 

“ Stevens 

“ Stockton 

“ Vancouver 

“ Wallen  

“ Whipple 

“ Wicked.. 

*“  Yuma..  

Fraser’s  River 

Freezing-out 

Fremont’s  old  trail 

“’Frisco” 

Frigate-birds 

Fruit  of  Mormon  teachings 
Fun,  a little 

Gamblers 

Gale,  Judge 

Gate  City 

Garden  of  the  Gods 

Game,  lack  of. 

“ Ganow’s  ” 

Germany,  a bit  of 

Germans 

“ a frightened 

“ enterprising. 

“ a plucky  . . . 
Getting  under  way. . 

Georgetown 

Geiger  grade 

Genoa 

Gertrude  Jane 

Gila  City 

“ River  . . 

“ valley  of  the. . . 

“ Bend. 

“ freshet  in 

Give  John  a chance. 

Good  grazing  region. 
Golden  City 


170 

251 

436 

...  89,  114 

376 

377 

148 

40 

115 

....  29,  33 

376 

384 

413 

75 

48 

277 

....21,  33 

418 

277 

49 

271 

328 

261 

376 

407 

54 

855 

224 

69 

77 

274-6 

. . 274,  468 
...  .188 
113 

...59,  224 
59 


79 

103-4,  460 

351 

. . . . 341 

24 

....  56 

100 

....  383 

34 

....  71 

431 

...  436 

438 

363 

364 

..  . 364 
....  366 

381 

317 

50 


Golden  Gate 276 

Goldmines 66 

Gold  and  silver,  our  yield  of  1873.  491 

Gooseberries,  wild 63 

Good  missionary  ground 319,  361 

Gov.  Low  on  Chinese 318 

Grasshoppers 36 

Granite  Creek 398 

Grande  Ronde  Valley 232 

Great  West,  the 22 

“ American  Desert 51 

“ Salt  Lake 209 

“ American  Falls 218 

“ Bend  region . . 251 

Gregory  Gulch 64 

“ Consolidated 66 

Greenhorn  River 82 

Green  River 150-3 

Gregg,  Gen.  Irvin 407-8 

“ Greasers  ” 470 

Grizzly  bear  and  cubs 459 

Guaymas 378 

Guatemala 472 

Gulls 274,  468 

Gulf  Stream 476 

Happy  Family,  a 37 

Halsey,  Mr.  Supt 221 

Hardyville 413 

Hardy,  Mr 414 

Hassayampa 387 

Hermann 25 

Hercules  of  the  Plains 29 

Hell  Gate 253 

Hell  Cafion 405 

Heller,  Louis 383 

“ Heathen  Chinee” 301,  430 

Hermitage,  the 458 

Hincklin’s,  Zan,  estate S3-4 

High  Council  of  Mormon 

Church  196-8 

Homan’s  Park 99 

Hoosiers ...  22 

Holliday’s  Overland  Stages  . . 41,  207 

Holliday,  Ben  41,  152,  207 

Holmes’  One-Hoss  Shay 242,  418 

Home  again 476 

Honitos 465 

Hood,  Mt 256,  264,  269 

Horse  philosophy 236-7 

Horses,  a fine  team  of. 234 

How  not  to  do  it 160 

Huerfano  River 83 

Hunt,  Indian  Agent 116,  131 

Iluulapai  Springs . . . 410 

“ Hutchings’  ” 449 

Hydraulic  mining 427 


60,  63  | Idaho  Springs 


71 


INDEX. 


m 


Idaho  City 

PAGE 

....  224 

Iron  mines 

Irrigation 

PAGE 

60,  487 

d 

mines  of 

....  226 

Isothermal  lines 

. ..  263 

tl 

Dogberry 

....  226 

Isthmus  of  Panama 

. ..  474 

Illinois  and  Indiana 

....  22 

“ “ people 

Indians,  Apache 

....  401 

44 

Arrapahoe 

Jackson,  Gen 

...  29 

u 

Cheyenne 

.115,  127 

Jack  Cox 

..132-3 

a 

Chemehuevi 

....  424 

Jack-rabbits  and  quail 

...  345 

44 

Comanche 

115,  127 

Jesus,  Don 

i< 

Delaware 

....  30 

Jerked  beef. 

...  118 

u 

Diegano 

. ..350 

Jewish  synagogue 

ll 

Hualapai 

. ..412 

Jews  on  Pacific  Coast 

...  287 

(( 

Maricopa 

....  369 

Jesuit  missions 

(« 

Mojave. 

412 

Johnston,  Albert  Sydney 

U 

Oregon. 

....  252 

John  Day  River 

...  254 

»( 

Pai-Utes 

....  412 

John  as  a merchant 

...  304 

a 

Papago 

380 

“ a banker,  etc 

...  305 

It 

Pawnee 

. . . . 38 

“ an  operative 

...  306 

ll 

Pimo 

369 

“ a railroad  builder. ... , 

. . . 307 

u 

Pottawatomie 

....  32 

“ an  actor 

ll 

Shoshone 

....  158 

“ a gambler 

...  309 

ll 

Sioux 

“ a holiday  keeper 

...  311 

ll 

Umatilla 

“ a legislator 

...  312 

44 

Ute 

.114,  135 

“ a heathen 

.313-15 

44 

Walla- Walla 

“ give  him  a chance 

...  317 

44 

Yavapai 

....  392 

John  Phoenix 

Indian  corn 

....  27 

“ Jordan  is  a hard  road,”  etc.. 

ii 

Point 

28 

Josh-house,  Chinese 

.312-14 

it 

idea  of  steam 

....  30 

Judge  Costello 

...  107 

ii 

“ telegraph 

....  30 

“ Gale 

...  59 

n 

rumors 38. 

i o5-7,  77 

“ Lynch 59, 

62,  226 

ii 

council. . . , 

114,  116 

11  Carter. 

ii 

treaty 

..113-36 

11  a brave 

ii 

ponies 

....  116 

Julesburg 

..49,  53 

ii 

costumes 

....  117 

Junction  Citv 

. ..  26 

ii 

village 

...  118 

Juniper  Mountain 

...  409 

ii 

dogs 

....  118 

Juries,  Mormon 

...  190 

it 

profanity 

....  119 

ii 

speeches 

..  127-9 

Kansas  Pacific  Railroad 

it 

a sharp 

....  129 

Kansas  generally 

...  27 

ii 

bartering  with 

...131-2 

Kaolin 

. . . 63 

it 

dance 

133 

“ Kate,”  mule 

87,  112 

it 

squaws 

....  135 

Kaw,  the 

...  32 

ti 

generally % . 

...135-6 

Kerber’s  ranch 

...  100 

ti 

trophies 

....  143 

Kimball,  Heber  C 

.167-75 

ti 

scare 

.146,  419 

Kit  Carson 96-7,  114 

it 

exploits  of  Apaches... 

....  402 

“ his  services 

. ..  136 

ii 

their  cunning 

403 

“ personal  appearance 

...  137 

it 

policy  of  Brigham  Young.  212 

“ adventures 

..  137 

ii 

“ our  old 

.370,  412 

“ Sherman  on 

...  138 

it 

“ our  true 

....  413 

“ Indians  on 

. ..  138 

“ Inside  ” vs.  u Outside  ” 

....  354 

“ his  opinion  of  Indians.138-9 

Inspiration  Point 

....  457 

Kootenay 

Interview  with  Brigham  Young  .17S-9 

“ U.  S.  Judge  at  Salt 

Lawrence 

. ..  26 

Lake 

. . 189-98 

Landscapes,  superb.. 72,  84-6,  243,  446 

Irish  miners. 

....  246 

Landscane.  a tropical 

...  478 

“ Iron-clad  ” Christians 

....  289 

Laramie  Plains 

. ..  148 

498 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Laclede 152 

Latrobe 248 

Lake  Pond  Oreille 252 

Laguna  Grande 342 

Laguna 347 

Lady,  an  army,  in  Arizona 413 

La  Paz 414 

Lake  Tahoe 439 

Leavenworth 25 

Lead,  etc 63 

Leutze’s  painting 105 

Leave  Utah  or  drown 184 

Lewiston 223 

La  Grande 233 

“ mines  near... 233 

“ river 235 

Lcland,  a 465 

Little  Blue 38 

Live  mining-town 65 

Lincoln  on  our  mines 70 

Life  in  a stage-coach 155-7 

Lieut.  Genl.  Utah  Militia 173 

Little  Arkansas 104 

Liberals  vs  Imperialists 353 

Libertad 377 

Live-oaks  of  California 426,  441 

Long’s  Peak 75 

Lost  among  Indians 120-4 

“Lo!  the  poor  Indian” 55,  135 

Lone  Mountain  Cemetery. . . .280,  295 


“ itself. 334-5 

Lumber,  costly.  49,  375,  407 

Lynoh,  Judge 59,  62,  226 

Maniiattanvllle 32 

Marysville 34 

Mautilini,  Mr 67 

Machinery,  mining 67 

Manitou,  Col 80 

Mark  Tapley’s  philosophy. 122 

Massacre,  Sand  Creek 139 

Malade 215 

Machado’s,  Ranch,  Sefior. 342 

Maricopa  Desert 366 

Mariposa  Trail 456 

44  Big  Trees 462 

“ itself. 464 

Manzanillo 469 

McCormick,  Gov 362 

McDowell  Crossing 383 

Meals  en  route 42 

Medicine  Man,  a 77 

Mexican  peons 83 

“ bailie 91 

“ beds . . 93 

“ emigrants 86,  89,  353 

44  life  and  manners 471 

Mexican  vs.  Yankee 106 


PAGE 

Menace  to  U.  States 175 

“Meacham’s” 239 

Mescal 345 

Mesquite 365 

Merced  River 452 

Mel  no  Park. 466 

Missouri 24 

Missouri  River 25 

Mining  town,  a live 65 

Mining,  placer 66 

Mining  “ processes  ” 68 

Mining  Companies,  bogus 69 

Mining  as  a business 435 

Mines,  yield  of.. 70 

Mines,  our,  total  yield  of  1873. . . 491 

Miners’  slang 72 

Miners  returning  East 146 

Mines  at  Baker  City 231 

Mines  of  Colorado 63-71 

“ Idaho 226 

44  Oregon 254 

44  California 279,  427 

“ Arizona 378,399,414 

Mines  of  Nevada 432-5 

“ U.  S.  generally 490-1 

Mills,  stamp 67 

Mill  City 71 

Miami  Valley 22 

Mieawber,  Mr 68 

Micawber,  a Boston 250 

Militia,  Utah 172-5 

Mission  Mills 306 

Milton’s  Hell 411 

Mirage 346 

Moral,  a 124 

Mormon  woman 152 

“ tabernacle 166 

44  preacher 167 

“ a sharp 168 

“ sermons 169 

“ militia-muster 172 

“ outrages,  etc 183 

44  murder  of  Dr.  Robin- 
son   184-7 

“ Mountain  Meadow  Mas- 
sacre  191 

“ juries,  etc 190 

“ sobriety  and  thrift 200 

“ Bishops 201 

44  Brigham  Young 174-9 

Mormonism  in  general 199 

Mormon  Church,  as  immigration 

agency 202 

Mountain  city,  a 64 

Mountain  scenery,  effect  of 86 

Mountain  mud-wagons 144 

Mountain  Fever. 170 

Montgomery  street 285 

44  dames 286 


INDEX. 


499 


PAGE 

Montana  emigrants 398 

Mojave  River 420 

Mother,  an  ambitious 438 

Monument  Creek 79 

Mountains,  Alleghany 58 

“ Rocky 75,  113 

“ Wahsatch 158 

“ Blue 234,244 

“ Cascade 255 

“ Aztec 392 

“ San  Bernardino 420 

“ Sierra  Nevadas..427,  437-8 

Mt.  Long’s  Peak 75 

“ Pike’s  Peak 75-79 

“ Hood 256,  264-9 

“ St.  Helen’s 270 

u Shasta 256 

“ San  Bernardino 344 

“ San  Francisco 391 

Mule  teams 54 

“ Kate 87 

Munchausen,  Baron 57,  89 

Mustang  team 157 

Mysteries  and  miseries  of  stage- 
coaching  156 

Nasby  people 267 

New  England 22 

“ village 397 

Newspapers  again 108,  424 

New  Mexico,  etc 140 

New  Granada 472 

New  York 476 

Nevada,  agriculture  in 431 

“ mines  in 433,491 

“ alkali  plains  of 436 

Nez  Perce  Chief 250 

Nicaragua 472 

North  Platte 148 

“ Clear  Creek 66 

“ No  makee  bobbery  ” 303 

Nurseries  of  the  army 418 

Ocean,  a Pacific 323 

Off  for  the  Pacific 144 

“ Los  Angelos 322 

“ Ft.  Yuma 339 

“ Yosemite 444 

Ogden  City 210 

Ohio 22 

Old  Chief 63 

Omaha 40,  58 

Ooray 115,  125 

“ his  speeches  at  treaty 126-9 

Ophir  mine 434 

Ores,  Colorado 68 

“ Arizona 399 

“ Nevada 432 

Oregonian,  a live 240 


PAGE 

Oregon  Steam  Nav.  Co ...  251 

“ Indians 252 

“ rains  and  fogs 259 

Oregonians  generally 268 

Orizaba , the 322 

“Out  West” 22 

Outrage,  a border 351 

Outrages,  Mormon 183 

“ Out  of  the  Wilderness  ” 424 

Outside  on  a coach 44 

“Outfit” 72 

Overland  route 35 

“ stages 41,  206 

Owyhee 224 

“ Rapids 253 

Ox-trains 54,  238 

“Pay-ore” 66 

Pay-streak 73 

“Panned-out” 73 

Pacific  Railroad,  Union 40,  71,  80 

“ Central 428,  430 

“ Northern 252 

“ Texas 396 

Pass,  Sangre  del  Christo 84-6 

“ Poncho 102 

Parks,  Rocky  Mt 95 

Parley’s  Canon 161 

Paymaster,  a lucky 227 

Pasquol,  old 361 

Painted  Rocks 367 

Pai-Ute  Hill 417 

Paradise  Regained 423 

“ for  invalids 491 

Panama 472 

Peat 49 

Peons,  Mexican 83 

Petroleum 153 

Personal  appearance  of  Brigham 

Young 178-9 

Pennsylvania  Dutchman,  a 39 

Phosphorescent  waves 467-8 

Pike’s  Peak 75,  79 

Pigeon  English 302 

Pilot  Knob 348 

Picacho 373 

Platte  River.. 36,  48 

“ Valley 47,  49 

Placer  Mining 65-66 


“ as  stock-raising  and  dairy 

region 51,  481 

Placerville 439 

Poncho  Pass 102 

“ Creek 103 

Pocket-knives  as  -weapons 122 

Polygamy,  its  workings 192-3 

“ bad  results  generally..  203 

“ a barbarism .*. . 204 


500 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Polygamy,  laws  against,  should 

be  enforced 204-5 

Portland 264-8 

Powder  River 228 

Powell,  Prof. 357 

Postle’s  ranch 405 

Pony,  a plucky 448 

Porpoises 467 

Prospect  Ridge 28 

“Prospecting” 66 

Prairie  schooners 26,  34,  54 

“ chickens 36,53 

“ dogs 37 

Praying  machines  of  Chinese 314 

“ Processes,”  mining 68 

Process,  a new,  wanted 68 

Preacher,  Mormon 167 

Pratt’s  River 228 

Price’s  Army,  left  wing  of...  .240,  267 

Press  of  California 288 

Prescott  Crossing 383 

“ road 385 

“ itself. 397 

“ her  mining  prospects. . . 399 

“ population 400 

Precious  metals,  our  yield  of  for 

1873 491 

Project,  a California 439 

Punty 445-8 

Quartz  mines,  etc 66 

Quicksands  of  Arizona 388 

“ execrable 392 


Ranchmen  and  their  homes 53 

Ranches 73 

“ in  California 293 

Ranchman,  a dismal 421 

Randall.  Bishop 59 

Railroad,  Union  Pacific 40,  71,  80 

“ Northern 252 

“ Central 428,430 

“ Texas 396 

“ across  the  Isthmus 474 

Rather  exciting  situation 121 

Rapids  of  the  Columbia 253 

Rains  and  fogs 259 

Rains  and  winds  of  San  Fran- 
cisco  281-2 

Racing  steam-ships 322 

Rattlesnakes 417 

Reception  of  Gen.  Sherman,  etc. . 62 

Red  Rupert 144 

Regions,  barren 215,  345,  410 

Representative  Californians 285 

Religion  in  California 287-9 

Revivalist,  a noted 432 

Ride  by  stage-coach 44 

Ride  after  antelope 51 


PAGE 

Ride  bymuleback 84-7 

“ a rough 220 

“ a fine"  horseback 446 

Rio  Grande 96-7 

“ bottoms 96 

Rio  Colorado 150, 356,  415 

Rip  Van  Winkles 279,  376 

Rising  Star  Steamer 475 

River  Terraces 28 

Rocky  Mountains 75,  143 

“ parks  of. 95 

Roads,  mountain 110,  439 

Road-agents 166 

Robinson,  Dr.,  murder  of 184-7 

Romancing 247 

Rough  stage-coaching 437 

Roses  in  California 440 

Rock  Springs 410 

Russel’s  Ranch 98 

Ruby  City 224 

Rule,  the  only  safe  among 
Indians 394 

Sacramento  River ' 425 

“ Valley 426 

“ City 440 

Saratoga  of  Colorado 71 

Sangre'  del  Christo 84-6 

Saddle  animals 87 

San  Luis  Park 96 

Saw-mills 110 

Safe  at  last 124 

Sage-hens 158 

Sait  Lake  City 164-6 

“ House 164 

“ Theatre 179 

“ audience  generally 182 

“ Vidette 183 

“ Mormon  outrages  at.  183, 198 

“ what  a U.  S.  Judge 

thinks  of  affairs 

there 189-98 

“ itself. 209 

(See  Mormon.) 

Sand  Creek  massacre 139 

Sand-storm,  a Yuma 358 

San  Fraucisco 276 

“ her  location 277 

“ sand-hills 278 

“ commerce,  etc 279 

“ climate 281-2 

“ earthquakes 283 

“ hotels 283 

“ houses  and  erardens.  284 

“ fruits  and  flowers. . 284 

“ churches 287-8 

“ her  Christmas  and 

New  Year 292 

“ statistics 279,  489 


INDEX. 


501 


PAGE 


San  Francisco,  Barbary  Coast. . . . 310 

“ Chinese 301,  321 

“ sail  on  Bay  of. . . . 294 

Santa  Barbara 324 

“ her  climate 490-91 


San  Diego 325-9 

“ court-house  and  jail 327 

“ climate 328 

“ neighboring  ranches. . . 329 

“ harbor 329 

San  Pedro 330 

Santa  Anna  River 340-1 

Santa  Cruz  River 372-5 

San  Xavier  del  Bac 379 

San  Bernardino 422 

San  Joaquin  River 444 

San  Mateo 406 

San  Jose 460 

San  Salvador.  472 

Scare,  an  Indian 146-7 

Scott’s  Marmion 159 

Scout  after  Apaches  404 

Segrist,  Mr.  39 

Seftors  and  Senoritas  92 

Sermons,  Mormon. 169 

Sea-sickness 272 

Sea-lions 295-6 

“ Shanghai  ” fences 36,  229 

Sherman,  Gen 61, 114 

“ on  Kit  Carson 138 

“ New  Mexico,  etc 140-1 

“ personally ...  142 

“ Shebang  ” . . 72 

Sha-wa-slie-wit 125 

Shauuo. 125 

Shingle  Station 439 

Silvers,  Rev.  Mr 39 

Sibley  tents 55,  118 

Silver-mining 66,  432-5 

Silver  City 224 

Sierra  Blanca 98 

“ Nevadas 427 

“ “ summit  of. 430 

“ “ snows  on 428,  437 

“ “ silence  of 460 

“ “ sugar-pines  of. 461 

Skull  Valey 392 

Smoky  Hill  River 28,  50 

Snowy  Range.  63,  76,  105 

Snow-squalis 81,  89,  98 

Snow-storm,  in  a 162,  241 

Snow  galleries 429 

Snows  on  Sierra  Nevadas 428,  437 

Snake  River . . . 216 

“ bottoms 217 

“ station 217 

“ valley  generally....  229 

Socelito 294 

Soda  Springs,  Col 80 


PAGE 

Soda  Lake... 419 

Soldier,  a true 408 

Something  about  smoking 157 

“ “ Vicksburg 261-2 

South  Platte 58,  65,  107 

“ Clear  Creek 71 

“ Park 105 

Spanish  Peaks 85 

“ attempts  to  speak 342 

Specimen  settlers 39,  406 

“ Square  meal  ” 72 

Squaws,  Indian 135 

Stage-horses 41 

“ stations 41 

“ drivers 42,  54 

“ staging  it  “ outside  ” 44 

“ coaching  generally 155,  206 

“ good-bye 248 

“ across  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vadas.   428,  437 

Stampedes 147 

Stamp  Mills  67 

Statistics  of  Stock-raising  on 

Plains 481-7 

Statistics  of  San  Francisco, 


“ gold  and  silver  pro- 
duct. 1873 491 

Stanislaus 444 

Steam  navigation  on  the  Colum- 
bia  251 

“ “ on  the  Col- 
orado  414-15 

Steele,  Gen 261-3 

Stockton 442 

“ her  windmills,  etc 442 

Stormy  Divide 77 

St.  Louis 23 

St.  Helen’s  270 

Stump,  Capt 251 

“S.  T.  1860,  X.,  etc.” 249 

Sulphurets 68,  399 

Sulphur  Springs,  hot 171,  209 

Sunsets 45 

Sunset,  a magnificent 46 

Superintendent  of  Mines 67 

Sugar-pines  of  California 461 

“ Swinging  round  the  circle  ” 227 

Swiss  artist,  a 43 

“ Swop  ” and  “ no  swop  ” 131 

“Taxings’’ 68 

Tabernacle,  Mormon 166 

Tahoe,  Lake 439 

Taylor,  Bayard 25 

Teamsters,'  as  a class 237,  244 

Telegraph  Hill 279 

Tehauntepec,  Gulf  of 47? 

Texan  Emigrant 349 


502 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Texas  and  Pacific  Railroad 396 

Tip-top  of  Rocky  Mountains 85 

Topeka. 26 

Tobacco,  some  defence  of. 157 

Transportation,  costly 357,  377 

Transition,  a welcome 423 

Treaty  with  Ute  Indians 113,  136 

Trophies,  Indian 143 

Trout-fishing 88 

Trout-broiling 88, 102 

Trout  streams 97 

Truckee  River 431 

Tucson 374 

“ her  high  prices 375 

“ business 376 

“ costly  transportation 377 

Tucson’s  griefs 378 

“ mines ....  378 

Tuolomne  River 444 

Turkey,  a fine  wild. 407 

Typical  emigrant 406 

Umatilla  River 245-6 

“ City 249 

Uniontown 233 

Union  Pass 411 

Union  Pacific  Railroad 40 

Ups  and  downs  of  Californians . .297-9 

U p the  Sierras 428 

Utah  militia 172-5 

“ autocrat  of 179 

“ Judge,  opinion  of 189,  198 

“ U.  S.  Courts  in . . 193-6 

“ laws  in,  enforce 205 

(See  Mormon.) 

Ute  Indians 77,  212 

“ council 114-16 

“ treaty 116,  136 

“ princess 117 

“ village 118 

“ lost  among 120 

“ chiefs 114-15,  125 

“ dance 133 

“ generally 134 

“ squaws 135 

V alley  of  the  Platte 48 

“ Bois£ 219 

“ Burnt,  Powder,  and 

Pratt’s  rivers 228 

“ Snake 229-30 

“ Grande  Ronde  . . . 232 

“ Umatilla 247 

“ Weber 161 

“ Salt  Lake 165 

“ Columbia 252 

“ Gila 364 

“ Salado 395 

“ Colorado 355,  411 


PAGE 

Valley  of  the  Sacramento 426 

Valley  of  the  Yosemite 447,  454 

Vicksburg,  something  about 261-2 

Victoria 266 

View  from  Telegraph  Hill 280 

Villacito 344 

Virginia  Dale,  145  ; Virginia  City  432 

Voyage  from  Portland  to  San 

Francisco 273 

“ a delightful 323 

“ up  the  Sacramento.  . . . 425 

“ home 467 

Vulture  mine  and  mill 391 


WAGON-trains  and  teamsters 54 

Ward,  Artemus 180 

Water-ditches 82,  487 

Walla  Walla 243,  251 

Wallula 249,  251 

Wanted — a road 385 

“ roads  and  bridges 389 

“ a railroad 396 

Westerner,  specimen  of  a 55 

W estern  exaggerations y6-7 

Wellington,  young  chief 123-4 

Weber  Valley 161 

West,  Bishop 175,  211 

Wells,  Lt.  General 175 

Wells  Springs 244 

“Web-footed”  children 259 

West  Indies 476 

Whales 467 

Whirlwinds 346 

White  Pine 433 

Whitney,  Prof 452,  456 

Whittier’s  prophecy 477 

Wheat-fields  of  California 426,  441 

“ yield  of 441 

Wickenbnrg 390 

Wildcat  Creek 39 

Wind-storm,  a... 45 

Willow  Springs 146 

Wilful,  John 247 

Willamette  River 266 

Wilmington,  etc 331 

Wilson,  Don  Benito 336 

“ his  noble  ranch 336 

“ orange  groves 337 

“ vineyards 337 

“ his  home 338 

Williamson’s  Valley 409 

Wind-mills 278 

“ “ in  California 285,  441 

Winds  and  rains  of  San 

Francisco 281-2 

Wines,  California 338 

Wood  and  lumber  scarce 49 

Wolves  or  cayotes 216 


INDEX. 


503 


PAGE 


PAGE 


Yankee-land 22 

Yankee  hand  and  brain 71 

Yank’s  Station 437 

Yerbo  Buena 279 

Yellow-jacket  mine 434 

“ You  bet” 73-74 

Yosemite  Valley 443 

“ first  view  of. ... . 447 

“ South  Dome  and 

walls 450 

**  Bridal  Veil  and 

Yosemite  Falls.  451 

“ El  Capitan 451 

“ bv  moonlight...  451 

“ North  Dome,  etc.  452 

“ Lake  and  South 

Fork 452 

“ Cascades  and 

Vernal  Falls..  453 

“ rainbows  in 453 

“ Nevada  Falls. . . 454 


Yosemite  Valley,  Sentinel  Peak..  454 
“ Mt.  Broderick. . 454 

“ Cathedral  Rock.  454 


“ in  winter 455 

“ from  Hutchings’.  449 

“ from  Inspiration 

Point 457 

Young  chief  Wellington 123-4 

Young,  Brigham 175-9 

;i  wives  of,  180  ; children  of  181 

“ shrewd  dodge  of. 187 

“ success  of. 195 

Indian  policy  of. 212 

“ Brigadier  General 175 

“ Colonel 175 

“ Joseph 211 

(See  Mormon.) 

Zan  Hincklin’s  ranch 83-4 

Zig-zags,  mountain 437 

“ swinging  the 438 


THE  END. 


GETTY  RESEARCH  INSTITUTE 


II  I 

3 3125  01046  7153 


